** Disclaimer: I wrote this post in February but for some reason have been afraid to push publish on it until now **
This week, well let me be completely honest, these last few years I have had money on the brain. It is no secret that I grew up with a distorted view of reality and money. I’ve mentioned in videos and on the blog that I was fortunate enough to grow up in a lap of luxury, getting everything I ever wanted and living a life bigger than I could even dream of now. It is also no secret that my family lost everything a few years ago, which forced me to humble myself, and landed me to do it completely on my own with no one to fall back on in times of need. It has been hard on me to know that the childhood I grew up with was not a realistic lifestyle for most; which has sent me onto a totally different path and way of life now.
This morning I was packing my house, getting ready to move into my sisters house for a while (talk about humbling), I was going through some pictures of the “old days”. The days that I would buy several louis vuitton bags (to be honest I always thought they were kinda ugly but would only buy them because the LV showed the world I had status at 16); the days when I would beg and plead with my dad to buy me a new car that could fit “all” my friends instead of the 4 seat Lexus convertible I had (mind you this was still in high school); The days when I would fly my friends around in my dads private plane just so we could get away for a day (because high school life is apparently that stressful); The days when it seemed that I didnt have a care in the world.
I sat there this morning almost brought to tears. Not tears of sadness, loss, or even despair of being at the lowest point I could be right now, But tears of complete and utter disgust. I am disgusted with who that person was; who I pretended to be. All the while never thinking about anyone else or ever realizing peoples struggles and way of life in the ‘real world’.
I am not sad or angry that I have been humbled beyond means and recognition these last few years; that my life did a complete 180. I am not embarrassed or ashamed that I have gone from the top of the mountain to the very bottom, or that I am having to start all over again at 28 and climb the mountain on my own. I am not sad that I cant buy the extravagant luxuries I once got so easily, or roll around in the status of having wealth.
To be completely honest, I am excited. I get to reinvent the status quo and the meaning of what it is to be wealthy to me.
I dont want the expensive purses and clothes I once wore; I now know that buying just one of those things could feed an entire village in Africa for a year. I dont want to have the six figure salary and never ending desire for more; I now know what it is like to be on the otherside, instead of praying for more, praying just to make it through the day.
It is a scary thing trying to reinvent the status quo of wealth, let alone even mentioning my desire to. I know some people will think I am crazy for being content with less, and I know that when it comes down to the opportunity to change a persons view of wealth, most people wouldnt even think twice about it; and I’ll be completely honest I’m scared to death that I will fall back on the desires I once longed for at times.
But, Im not afraid to stand up and say no to the nice things and let people know that my worth and my wealth has nothing to do with what I have, how much I make, or even the price I paid for something. I don’t want my life to be measured by stuff I cant take with me after this life, by my selfish ambition to have more, by the status the world gives me because of what I make. If my desire to change the way people look at material possessions and the way the world holds rich people on a pedastool makes me crazy, then I am happy to be called crazy.
If you must measure my wealth or put a label on my status then measure me by how much I give; how hard I work at having a heart like Christ, the price my sacrifice for others cost, and how much of a difference I make everyday.
What if we measured our wealth by how much we gave instead of how much stuff we have?
I don’t want my life to measured by those things anymore!
I want my wealth to be measured by how hard I love and how much I give, and how I strive to make a difference and be a light in a dark place and how I work hard to have a heart like Christ.