I wasn't planning to read this book.
After all, except for a post or two someone linked to on Facebook, I've never read Jen Hatmaker's blog; and really, all I remembered from what I did read was that she's a master at self-deprecating humor. I didn't even remember what she looked like or where she lived (I thought Florida, turns out it's Texas).
Besides, there's something in me that pushes back with quite a big shove when I hear about the Latest and Greatest book to come down the Christian publishing pipe. When I start to hear the buzz and see an abundance of blog and Facebook posts about a new book that's SO GOOD and EVERYONE SHOULD READ IT and it will REVOLUTIONIZE your life, that's a pretty big clue for me to make a mental note that I
don't want to read that one. I'm not exactly sure why that is. I guess I have a little bit of a rebel in me. ;-)
But as I was saying, I had no intentions whatsoever to read a book called
7: An Experimental Mutiny against Excess. It sounded a little weird...and extreme...and, well, entirely too popular for me to be interested.
I'm really not sure what changed my mind. I wish I could remember because that would be an interesting part of my story, but alas, I do not. What I do know is that one night a vague little thought, "Maybe I
would like to read that book," entered my mind; then I thought, "Well, I definitely don't want to BUY it. I'll just look online and see if our library has it."
It did.
"Well, I guess I'll go ahead and reserve it."
I did.
It took a while for the library to contact me that it was ready to be picked up; I suppose someone else had it checked out for several weeks. (That's what happens when you try to read POPULAR books.) ;-) But eventually I got the email that it was at the library, I went by and got it, and then I started to read.
It didn't take long for me to realize that I had grossly underestimated the book. Now that I've read it once and am reading it again, I think it's safe to say that I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out to be one of the most influential--if not, THE most influential--book I read all year.
Two things worked together to heighten the impact on my heart. First of all, the timing was perfect. May is a fairly open month, schedule-wise, for me; and each year when May rolls around, I find myself automatically shifting into a lower gear than I was running at during the school year, which leads to wonderful times of re-evaluation--of my home and the way I keep it, of our homeschool and the way I teach it, of my children and the way I mother them, and, in general, my life and the way I live it. If I had read
7 back in October or in March, at the heights of busy-ness in each semester, I would have likely felt overwhelmed and wouldn't have seen my way clear to making many changes. Even if I had read it in January, I don't think I would have taken it to heart as much as I have now, because the rush of good intentions that come at the beginning of the year tend to die out as soon as the regular school-year schedule picks up again after Christmas break. I wonder if God delayed the return of that book to the library so that I would end up receiving it at a time when I was most receptive. :)
Second, I love books that challenge me. I
crave that. I don't want to read books that just tell me how much God loves me (I know He does, and I'm eternally grateful for that) or how beautiful I am (I know that, too--not at all that I'm beautiful in a this-is-the-next-Mrs.-America way but in the God-made-me-and-that-makes-me-beautiful way) or what a great purpose God has for my life (thank you, that's great, but I already know that, too). Please understand: I'm not putting down those messages. They are vitally important, and for the place that some people are at on their spiritual journey, they are the most important lessons to be learned. But I've been walking with God long enough that it's easy for me to be complacent, so when a book (or a sermon or conversation or whatever) comes along that opens my eyes to my sin and gives me a kick in the pants to
do something about it, I actually LOVE that. Why?
Because I'm crazy about growth. I don't want to stay the same as I am now. I want to continue to be transformed into the likeness of Jesus; and by God's grace, that is what is happening.
And so, I began to read
7. For the sake of this post making sense to more people than just me, let me summarize the book in this way. While hosting people displaced by a hurricane, Jen had a wake-up call that her family was actually quite wealthy compared to most of the people in the world. She began a process of re-evaluation in seven specific areas: food, clothing, possessions, media, waste, spending, and stress. She spent a month on each of those areas, making radical changes in how she and her family live life--not with the goal of simplifying for the sake of simplicity, but always with the goal of how to better follow Jesus.
From the beginning of the book, I admired Jen's courage to bite off such an ambitious project, but I was still pushing back some against the idea that I needed to do the same. For example, I thought...
"Is it necessary, when we see someone do something like this and be so moved and changed by it, for us to replicate the experiment? Is it the call of God for us as well? Or can we simply say, 'That's great that they are hearing God's voice in that way and being faithful to obey, but that's not what God is asking of me?' Or is that just making an excuse because we don't want to do that hard thing?"
...and also...
"Similarly, is it enough to read about her experiences and come to the same conclusions as she does (that our lives are filled with excess and need to be reduced so Christ can be more)? Or would the impact on my own heart be much more deep and lasting if I were actually to do what she did? Can I get the convictions second-hand, or do I have to learn by doing?"
Can you tell that I wasn't immediately fired up to make the sacrifices that Jen had made? :)
I'll jump ahead far enough in the story to tell you that I
haven't taken the same actions Jen did, but I
have made some changes, and in the days to come I hope to write about those things. I think in the future, I'll enjoy looking back on these posts and reading what I was feeling challenged by and how I was changing here in the late spring of 2014. And who knows? Maybe I'll be able to look back and see how the course of my life changed--maybe ever so slightly, but still a difference--because I read Jen Hatmaker's
7.
Let me end with an excerpt from the Introduction. Jen writes...
How can I be socially responsible if unaware that I reside in the top percentage of wealth in the world? (You probably do too: Make $35,000 a year? Top 4 percent. $50,000? Top 1 percent.) Excess has impaired perspective in America; we are the richest people on earth, praying to get richer. We're tangled in unmanageable debt while feeding the machine, because we feel entitled to more. What does it communicate when half the global population lives on less than $2 a day, and we can't manage a fulfilling life on twenty-five thousand times that amount? Fifty thousand times that amount?
It says we have too much, and it is ruining us.
It was certainly ruining me. The day I am unaware of my privileges and unmoved by my greed is the day something has to change...
(This series of posts continues
here with the First Seven and
here with the Second Seven and concludes
here with The Rest of the Sevens.)