I am a minimalist by nature. When it comes to inventory management in our home, specifically related to food, I tend to under-do my buying. It took me years of adjustment to increase my purchases to provide for a family of five. Thankfully, it’s been a gradual adjustment as each child develops and begins eating more and more.
Buying extra of anything goes against my natural fibers. When others buy three, I buy one. When most buy at least one, I buy none. I don’t know how I got this way but it’s who I am.
I found myself at BJ’s stocking up because the world is in uncharted territory trying to manage a contagious virus. Shelves are empty and fear is everywhere. I called my husband asking for advice about how much I should purchase. I felt pretty good about my cart overflowing with items. This alone is an amazing accomplishment.
Over the phone, I asked him, “Why did we send a minimalist to stock up on food? This seems like a bad idea.” I can’t even fathom what thirty days of food looks like. How do you buy for that in one trip?
When minimalism collides with the ripple effect from the Coronavirus, things get tricky. My minimalism bleeds into other areas and as a result, there is an internal conflict between a feeling of scarcity and a desire to provide opportunities for creativity and fun. Just yesterday, my five-year-old daughter was independently attempting to make her own version of Vaseline. In the bathroom, she mixed a combination of toothpaste, water and hand soap. While I appreciate her imagination, I can’t exactly go to the store and stock up on liquid hand soap right now. How can we be responsible with our supplies without instilling fear in our kids?
Thankfully we have a God who provides for us abundantly, especially when it comes to the intangibles in life like love, joy, peace, play, creativity, silliness, and laughter. While I might be trying to encourage responsible usage of toilet paper in my house, maybe this is the time to embrace our creative and silly side? Maybe these intangibles are powerful weapons during a time of uncertainty. God does not withhold from us, we just forget to ask. Why shouldn’t we sing, dance, love, and be silly? What’s holding us back?
It’s critical to have earnest conversations because we are all feeling an onslaught of emotions. However, if I remain in a state of permanent gloom, my hope and joy dwindle and I tend to take my kids down with me. If I can insert joy and fun into the house our spirits lift. How will we ever know the magnitude of God’s unrelenting love and abilities if we limit His access?