--This book has made it to The New York Times bestseller list at some point, I'm told, although I'm not seeing it there now. Hurrah for one of my favorite Lutherans!
--My Amazon order also included the new book by Margaret Atwood. But I may reread the other two books in the trilogy first.
--Part of me wants to save Atwood's book. But why? Am I scared it may be her last? Is it the delicious anticipation of knowing I have something to read that's going to be wonderful? Is it the fear of being interrupted?
--It feels like a bit of scarcity consciousness. But there are so many wonderful books of all kinds--why would I feel imperiled that way?
--Is it the same consciousness that keeps me from getting to know my new laptop? Two weeks ago, I bought one because it was a wonderful sale. I have yet to open the box.
--I'm afraid I'll ruin it. I'm afraid it will disappoint me. Part of it is lack of time; I bought the laptop and left for a retreat, and I've been racing ever since.
--Scarcity consciousness has me thinking of buying pecans, since it's been a tough growing season in the southeastern states. I want to stock up before the price rises.
--If you feel the same way, I highly recommend buying pecans from Koinonia Farms. You'll be supporting an old-time social justice organization, the same organization that spawned Habitat for Humanity. Go to this site if you want to order pecans. I'm buying in bulk!
--And it's scarcity consciousness that keeps me from heading to the beach for sunrise--I feel a lack of time. But truly, there's plenty of time, at least once or twice a week.
--So this morning, mid-blogging, I put on my shoes and headed on over. The sunrise was obscured by clouds, but that was beautiful too--watching the cracks and the holes where the light peeked through.
--The sea, too, seems seared by a scarcity consciousness. It's roiled up this morning, voracious in its sweep to the shore.
--Like the sea, we have plenty: plenty of shoreline, plenty of sand. It's just a matter of shifting our perspective.
--Bolz-Weber would tell us that God does God's best work out of a state of scarcity. She talks about a Rally Day event that she planned, only to have a small group show up. She goes through a period of despair. She reflects on the miracle of loaves and fishes, the disciples saying they have nothing to serve the hungry crowds. And then she has several insights, including this one: "The disciples' mistake was also my mistake: They forgot that they have a God who created the universe out of 'nothing,' that can put flesh on dry bones 'nothing,' that can put life in a dusty womb 'nothing.' I mean, let's face it, 'nothing' is God's favorite material to work with. Perhaps God looks upon that which we dismiss as nothing, insignificant, and worthless, and says, 'Ha! Now that I can do something with.'"
--I love this view of God. I love this transformation of scarcity consciousness into abundance living.
--I'm still going to wait to read the Atwood book until I've reread the first two books in the trilogy. That will be a reading treat of the first order.
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