I am reading Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly. She quotes Global activist Lynne Twist who, in her book The Soul of Money, refers to scarcity as “the great lie”.
Twist writes, “For me, and for many of us, our first waking thought of the day is, “I didn’t get enough sleep.” The next one is “I don’t have enough time.” Whether true or not, that thought of not enough occurs to us automatically before we even think to question or examine it. We spend most of the hours and the days of our lives hearing, explaining, complaining or worrying about what we don’t have enough of.
Before we even sit up in bed, before our feet touch the floor, we’re already inadequate, already behind, already losing, already lacking something. And by the time we go to bed at night, our minds are racing with a litany of what we didn’t get, or didn’t get done, that day. We go to sleep burdened by those thoughts and wake up to that reverie of lack.
This internal condition of scarcity, this mind-set of scarcity, lives at the very heart of our jealousies, our greed, our prejudice, and our arguments with life.”
* * *
And so we go through life, driven, driven, driven. Rushing like the Gadarene swine, driven by demons they could not see over a cliff to their destruction.
Driven by ambition to the detriment of our health, mental health, emotional health, relationships.
Driven for validation. To prove our intelligence, spirituality, talent, worth…
Forgetting that all drivenness comes from Satan, never from God.
Driveneness comes from the Accuser and Oppressor of the Brethren, never from the Good Shepherd who gently leads us.
We are driven by Satan, but Christ, he leads us on minute by minute, through his gentle Spirit. We have but to follow.
* * *
And in our drivenness to grab the life we dream of through our own hard work, we forget that there is a far better way, without bleeding fingertips and hearts and lives.
The way of prayer, and trust, and leaving room for God to work his miracles.
We forget The One who Makes Dreams Come True, the weaver, who can weave a technicolour dreamcoat from scraps of discarded wool
The one who can give us our wild dreams, and add no sorrow to them.
The one who says, “Come ye apart from them and be separate.”
The one who says, “Honey Child, you are enough.
I like you just as you are.
Brilliant success won’t make me like you more.
Failure will only make me envelop you more.
In me, you are loved, complete.
In me, child, you are enough!
Turn your gaze to me, and let me fill up the hungry holes in your heart.
Eat me, drink me.
Turn to me when you sense Satan driving,
When you are tempted by striving,
And I will give you rest.”