I seem to have a natural (or odd, perhaps?) tendency to try and find the "life lesson" in experiences I have. Not sure where this comes from. Maybe it's my way of avoiding some unpleasant truths I'm unwilling to learn about myself.
I'm finding this to be the case as it relates to the "adventure" we've been going through for the past two years or so. The "I don't really have a steady job" adventure, meaning. Which has led to the "How are we going to pay for...?" adventure. Amazingly, with the continual grace of heaven and many kind and loving (and generous) family members and friends, both known and unknown, we've been able to somehow make it month after sometimes harrowing month.
All of this has made me realize that I'm in a unpleasant but necessary form of detox. This long, drawn-out process of weaning myself from the love of money and the things it "buys" has brought me to myself, so to speak. I'm finally discovering how deep this love of and desire for money has its claws in me. It's almost as if I'm coming out of a coma.
I'm seeing that much of my adult life has been based on the lie that money tells us: You can have anything in this world with money. I've been a willing believer of the lie. It is quite seductive, and at times intricately woven into the equally important truth that teaches we must strive to provide for ourselves. At what point does providing become unhealthy, or even toxic?
Another truth I must confront is the realization that I may always be in recovery from the addiction. Is there really a cure? Perhaps the only one I know of is full-time (even if only in my head), consecrated service to others.
They say the first step is acknowledging the problem. Gotta start somewhere.