Today my thoughts went further than ever before. In my office there are many, many books. There are books on theology, books on preaching, philosophy books, business books, Bibles and history books. They fill the wall behind my desk, and I love it that way. In a reflective moment this morning, though, I found myself looking at the wall of books and, instead of feeling the usual deep sense of satisfaction, I found myself feeling exceedingly disturbed. It only took a moment for the disturbing thought to crystallize as I began to pick out particular books with my eyes. I would look at a title and find myself thinking, "I wonder how many meals for a homeless family could have been bought with the money I used to buy that book." Another title - "Is there a child who lacks clothing or toys because I bought that book?" Still another title - "Was that missionary couple able to raise the funds they needed, or did my selfish desire for a book get in the way?" On and on it went, book after book, for about 15 minutes until I had to force myself to get up and leave my office.
My heart is profoundly disturbed by these thoughts, these questions. Not because I think they are inappropriate thoughts, mind you. No, I find myself disturbed by them because they are wholly appropriate. They are questions that should be asked, inquiries that must be made. Have I sinned in my quest to own "stuff." More than just books, this extends to everything - TVs, DVDs, cars, furniture, even food at the grocery store. Has my drive to satisfy my desires - even my legitimate desires - caused me to forsake opportunities to go good? Are the things that I own merely signs of my greed? When I go out to eat on a regular basis, am I flaunting my wealth in the face of those for whom a meal in a restaurant is an impossibility?
I don't know that I will ever be able to look at the wall of books behind my desk the same way again. More significantly, I don't know that I want to. If my selfishness is hindering God's ability to use the resources He has given me, then my prayer is that God will continue to disturb my thoughts and discomfit my heart. I would rather sell every book that I own and never buy another than live with the realization that the book on my shelf represents what could have been food for the hungry or clothing for the naked or medicine for the sick.
May God continue to transform the way I look at things and at people and, through this transformation, radically alter the way I use my resources. The truth is that my thoughts are doing me a favor when they assault me each morning and each evening. I do fail. I am not like Christ. I should be doing more. There isn't time for rest...