Waking Up

One of the things that we did when we put a freeze on our bank accounts was set a strict grocery budget. And when you only eat whole, organic food, money does not go far. Some may wonder why we still eat this way if we're trying to save so much money, but one of the things we said from the beginning is that we aren't going to sacrifice the health of our children, and for us, that means that we're still very careful with what we put into their bodies. 

So far we've been really good at substituting what we have on hand or just going without if it's not important. The past couple of days have been particularly sparse since it's the end of the month, but we've still been eating nourishing, well-rounded meals, and for the kids who don't care about having the same breakfast several times a week, that's just fine. 

In order for Joshua and I to keep the kids eating well, however, our tight budget meant that when we ran out of coffee, we had to start drinking the tea that we had on hand, and when we ran out of that, Joshua suggested we just drink hot water and lemon like old people...but we didn't have any lemon. Cue the tiny violin: and that's when we began drinking our own tears. 

Because getting out of bed is one of my least favorite activities, and that morning cup of freshly ground organic coffee can either make or break my day, this may have been difficult for me. Let's face it, I'm a bitch in the morning, and I'm a food snob. Those two things put together make for an ugly morning when I'm waking up to being strangled by necklaces that my kids are attempting to decorate me with.  But after going to the store with $3.00 in glass milk bottle deposits and finding that we could buy enough loose-leaf, even organic tea to last a couple weeks and still have change leftover, I had to admit that my daily coffee fix wasn't at the top of the priority list. Reminding myself of our goals and the many reasons behind what we're doing, I was surprised that I was completely on board, without any complaint, resentment or reluctance about canceling our coffee subscription.  In fact, I found the whole situation refreshing and liberating, and damn it, I was pretty proud of myself.

So when my brother showed up on my doorstep, fresh in from Afghanistan, with a can of coffee under his arm because, well, he didn't want my tea, I realized just how incredibly blessed we were. I mean yes, my brother was home from deployment, but he had brought me coffee. I dwelled on that for the next few days: the fact that I had given up coffee for our cause and how my brother had just shown up with some, like it was some amazing "God thing." We were so blessed, I thought, even in the most tangible ways. Yeah, shallow much?

It was a slap in the face when I realized that I had, myself, become prey to the profound deceptions of this world. We find joy in the utmost insignificant. We gratuitously consume, we keep tiresome and verbose lists of the things that we expect God to oblige us with because "he loves us." We, humanity, are gluttonous to our cores, unable to appreciate even the most fundamental offerings that we should see as precious. So absorbed with what a "blessing" the coffee was that my brother brought us, I barely realized what a treasure he himself was, sitting there healthy and safe, home for the holidays, in my kitchen.

What's really important in this life? A decent cup of coffee? A hot shower? Our blinding preoccupation with the things that make us feel good, even those that are in and of themselves estimable, like feeding our growing children healthy food, doesn't come close to the people that we have in our lives. Because let's face it, if I didn't have my brother to share that cup of coffee with, or my kids waking me up every morning, violently assaulting me with costume jewelry, then what would be the point of waking up at all?