Sep
28
Giving and spending – these are two things I have done all my life.
Giving – I have long associated the rituals of giving with stewardship and gratitude toward God. As early as 6, I remember raiding Dad’s change jar on his dresser for enough coins to fill the offering envelope I brought to Mrs. Sanger at church. I learned about a tithe and was challenged to give, year in and year out for more than 40 years now. But it wasn’t until recently that I really took a look at the concept of stewardship beyond giving, to the stewardship of spending.
Spending – is such a rhythm of daily life that it is almost invisible. Spending for me, like most, has often been for necessities, but also spending for special occasions, spending for family and home and creating a comfortable life. In general, if I considered my lifestyle judicious, then I considered that I was a moral spender. I am not an extravagant spender so I was content. In my contentment, however, I must confess that I have been a completely unconscious spender for most of my life.
I never really considered that my spending could be a gift to God, like giving, until I asked a simple question: Who made this? Holding a jacket in hand at the counter of a department store, remembering the news story of a sweatshop in some distant place, I allowed this haunting little question to put a face on my spending. “Who made this?” My unconscious habit, of spending, just shifted toward stewardship thinking.
Not long after this Roger and I traveled to Turkey. The first day of our trip, our wise and generous guide made a suggestion, “Although you will end the trip in Istanbul with shops of every kind…” he said “as we travel through towns and villages, I will take you to the makers of Turkey’s treasures and if you like, you can buy from them directly.” Within a few days, we bought the same porcelain plates that we would have purchased from Istanbul, but we bought them from the 3 generation family pottery in a Cappadocia village. We were welcomed by the father and shown the whole factory by sons and cousins – the special family pride captured in signature designs is a story I would never have known without knowing who had made these beautiful plates.
At our next stop, we detoured down a dusty road until we scattered chickens with our van pulling up a long drive. Inside one of the four buildings surrounding us was a group of brightly colored pots steaming with yarn dye and a bustling group of women. Eager to show off the pure wool and brilliant colors, they dipped strands of wool from the vats that looked like steeping tea, “Never bright red, in my rug,” the interpreter said repeating the cheerful voice of one of the artisans, “only RICH red in my dye.” A color distinction I would never have known but I shall never forget because it was her sheer joy to make the best that she could. She was proud and skilled. Just how skilled I learned as she took to me to the loom and tried to teach my fumbling fingers to tie the knots that flew out like silk from her touch. My attempts were met with gales of laughter from the gathered women (no interpretation needed!), and in three compassionate steps she undid and redid my knots from lumpy to graceful. Come by my office and you can appreciate her rich red rug as I do, every day.
One of our last stops was along a mountain highway where Bedouin tribes camped in hand woven goat hair tents just off the shoulder from the modern roadway. From their goats and sheep they sheared, carded and wove the wool into coats and socks and mittens and blankets. The site was almost deserted as we drove in. Only the elderly grandmother was there. Colored socks, gloves, hats, blankets and rugs were pinned to the ropes and surfaces like nautical flags. She offered us tea and invited us in to the goat hair tent. Apologetic that the family wasn’t there to greet us for a sale, she explained that her son and daughter-in-law had taken their child into the hospital at the nearby town. Tears welled up in her worried eyes, and she brushed them away. Roger prayed for the child and the doctors (whom the grandmother did not trust, we learned) and she said “I will surely be blessed by my first Christian prayer.” She showered us with embarrassing gratitude for our simple compassion. Our bags were filled with socks and gloves, and now, every time I slip them on, I know for sure who made them and I remember her with grateful humility.
There are a million plates, rugs and socks in the world, but I am blessed by knowing who made these. They are not mere commodities, but treasures because I know that their lives are full of pride to craft them, that their families eat from apricot orchards supported by this work and that hospitality and connection were gifts given to the maker and buyer. Turkey turned out to be a spiritual outpost where I learned about the stewardship of spending.
Unfortunately, my life is still filled with too much anonymous and unconscious spending, but thanks to Good News Goods and other local and personal connections, I am trading in more and more of my unconscious spending for spending with a purpose. It is an added joy to know that I support the release of a woman from exploitation or that a child has uniforms for school because I am purchasing now with a purpose. There is justice and joy in a simple quest to know “Who made this?”It turns out to be a kingdom question.
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One Response to “A Word From Suzii – Giving and Spending”
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Great column, Suzii. Sounds like your trip to Turkey was an educational / spiritual journey. Thanks for challenging me to think more reflectively on my spending as well as my giving. You are right, spending is a stweardship also.
Hope our paths cross soon. Take good care, and greetings to The Rog!