I’m okay. It is difficult to put into words, but I’m okay. It feels odd and perhaps even shameful to not be striving towards a goal, or coping with some kind of stress or hardship. We bond over shared struggles, stress, the daily labor of achieving.
It’s summer now. Longer days. Lots of togetherness and flexibility. Potential for connection and conflict abounds. Time for rest and BBQ and ice cream.
On our first day of summer break we had a couple friends over. The kids made popsicles, walked to the park, watched a movie. I hoped for us to have fun, be outside, be healthy, be good friends, relax.
Absent a command to go and work, or a calling to fulfill and serve, I am left with the commands to abide, to love, to pray, to wait. I get anxious when trying to describe what I do or what’s next for me because I don’t know. I’m not anxious that I don’t know what’s next, which is a victory unto itself, but I panic a little because I don’t know how to answer the question. Saying, I don’t know, leaves everyone feeling awkward. Like a problem wanting a solution.
Perhaps the Holy Spirit will give me better words. In Luke 12:12, Jesus tells his disciples not to worry about how to defend themselves as Christ followers before authorities and rulers. The Holy Spirit will give them their script when they need it. Imagine being so close to God that She literally gives you the clarity and perfect words to speak as you stand before those who hate you, condemn you, even kill you. I struggle just to tell my friends or the people at church that right now following Christ means living without a to-do list or my nose to the grind stone. Life is full of suffering and struggle so if I’m not, then I must be lazy or undisciplined. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are persecuted, those who mourn or are poor in spirit. Right? Strive first for the kingdom of God. Take up your cross!
Blessed, too, are the meek, the pure in heart, the merciful.
Perhaps I shouldn’t resist awkwardness.
Right now, I’m okay. A calling and a mission will come. God has made me so very capable and strong. He will use my skills again to further His kingdom and peace on earth. Now is a time of huddling close. Listening a lot. Taking care of my body. Loving my husband and children with lots of quality time and practicing the peacemaking that comes with living with small children.
Today I will be grateful. I will pray and look for God at work in the lives of my children. I will be patient and kind with myself. I will say yes to my children as much as I can. I will read with joy the Gospel story. I will be okay.
I’ve been here before. A seed in the soil, surrounded by darkness and a stillness infused with change and activity but no movement. There’s some heat from the sun but no light and mostly it’s cold. Breaking apart. Unsure of which direction to send the roots and which direction to sprout. Feeling out of control. Alone. A bit dizzy.
I cried in the shower the other day. No reason. It felt good, though. Like when you’re nauseated so you try to puke. The violent twisting of the stomach into a knot hurts, but the nausea stops. Crying was like that, but for the lungs. Expelling a grief without substance.
I spend a lot of time now looking at my organizer calendar wondering what to do. I like structure and to-do lists. I love plans. It calms me to know what’s coming – when and what to expect to eat, to rest, to get excited about, to complete. Today, though, I don’t have that. Today I will practice following. Listening. Abiding. Waiting. Sticking close to Jesus in constant prayer and seeing where the day goes. I think I’m gonna be sick.
In my last small group, we studied the armor of God in Ephesians 6. Putting on our identity in Christ in order to battle the evil one who lies to us about ourselves and about God. It’s been surprisingly helpful to see and say the truth of who I am, to start with identity. I am a child of God. I am forgiven. I am chosen by God. So when the lies, I’m not important, I’m not lovable, I’m not doing enough, are whispered in my ear and spread like creeping ivy over my heart, the truth helps me fight back. To not live out of fear or shame, but to make choices from a place of love and peace. But living in the truth, I still wonder what to do. In response, the Bible says things like “abide,” and “pray” and “love.” These make terrible entries on a to-do list. Yet here we are.
The last time I was here I was a new mom. My life was radically and forever changed. There is joy and beauty and love and divinity, but I also remember the loneliness and pain. I am not eager to do this again. I know new life is coming, but it doesn’t make the disorientation that must come first any more comfortable or palatable. I am just a mess. One star. Do not recommend.
I think a lot about this quote from Richard Rohr’s, Falling Upward,
“St. John of the Cross taught that God has to work in the soul in secret and in darkness, because if we fully knew what was happening, and what God/grace will eventually ask of us, we would either try to take charge or stop the whole process. No one oversees his or her own demise willingly, even when it is the false self that is dying. God has to undo our illusions secretly, as it were, when we are not watching and not in perfect control, say the mystics. … We move forward in ways that we do not even understand and through the quiet workings of time and grace. When we get there, we are never sure just how it happened, and God does not seem to care who gets the credit, as long as our growth continues.”
I notified my students I will no longer be a piano teacher. In our last month together, I’m focused on ending our relationships well and preparing for our final recital. I should be more nervous. I’m giving up my last source of stable income, my justification for my college education and answer to “What do you do?” Will God provide a new job? How will I cut more expenses? How much will it hurt to change? A more normal person would be really concerned about these questions. I keep expecting fear and its pal indigestion, overeating with its buddy heartburn, depression, insomnia. Not this time. It’s an absolute cliché to say I trust God will provide a way through, but I do. I believe God knows exactly what we need and will provide it. I have Scriptural promises asserting that, whatever comes of this decision, God is with me. Faithfulness means acting on what I believe. The call on my life and yours remains the same – to love God and to love others. I can do that as a piano teacher and I can do that as a stay-at-home-parent; I can do that with less money and I can do it with more.
I recently read a book by Christopher M. Hays, Renouncing Everything: Money and Discipleship in Luke. It’s a quick read, especially for a theology book, about the wealth ethics of the Gospel of Luke and The Acts of the Apostles, two books of the Bible likely written by the same author. Luke’s Gospel recalls Jesus saying, “You cannot become my disciple without giving up everything you own.” (Luke 14:33)
On any list of The Hard Sayings of Jesus, this one easily makes the top 3 cut. It’s one of those verses in which suddenly everyone is a theological scholar parsing the original Greek text and caring a lot about context. Instinctively, we want to dismiss this as something Jesus only asked of the rich, young ruler. The thought that he says this to me, too, is terrifying.
You can’t be a Jesus disciple without giving up everything you own.
Hays explores how this extreme idea plays out in the life of Jesus, his disciples and the early Christian followers. Luke’s Jesus isn’t being hyperbolic only for effect. All Christians are called to actually give up everything for Jesus. To be sure, not everyone is called to itinerate ministry, dependent on the hospitality of others. Some are called to renounce everything and provide hospitality for the itinerant ministers. Owning something isn’t the problem. Failing to give what you own to Jesus’ purposes (in loving others and praising God) is the real problem.
I wonder, How do I renounce everything? What does that look like in my context, generally, and in my life, specifically? Giving up my job was an act of faith because it was my backup plan, my way of not truly depending on God. Sure, I was using this job to do good work and earn a living, but also to protect my reputation and assuage my insecurities. I kept at it long after I felt I needed to move on because I couldn’t see how my life would work without it. I still don’t, but I guess I’m renouncing my fear too.
Believing God provides doesn’t mean God will provide what I think I need. I am well aware that God will provide what I actually need, as determined by God, and my opinion on the matter is amusing at best. Renouncing everything feels like loss. Pruning is painful. (Please remind me of this when I start to doubt because life is hard and evil is pernicious.) However, this is the same God “who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20) And “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) I mean, there’s a chance that renouncing everything will be easier than I could imagine and I will wonder why it took me so long to trust God to see me through. Right? I know where this ends – closer to Christ. I just don’t know how living with less gets me there. Yet.
My thoughts are swirly. I wish I could communicate clearly the discombobulation and calm and questions and static that fills my mind these days. I feel like a snow globe. Easily disturbed into chaos, floating in the same spaces, falling to rest momentarily onto the fake permanence below. Maybe a little different but mostly still stuck.
I’ve written at least two, three drafts now about how to think about money. I’ve been reading about what makes a healthy mindset or philosophy or Christian theology regarding money. How we think about money determines how we act with money. I’m trying to figure out what I think, what I feel, what I hope. I feel I must clarify what I believe so I might discern how I should act. Meanwhile, life keeps happening and the snow globe gets jostled. I notified my students I would no longer teach piano. Flit flit flutter flutter. Spent the weekend at a Women’s Retreat trying to get comfortable answering, “So now what?” with “I don’t know.” Spin turn spin. Rachel Held Evans dies and whoosh! There goes everything.
I overcommitted myself this year and many of these commitments end soon and I am notifying people what I will not continue. “Oh, okay. So what are you doing?” “I don’t know.” Awkward silence. Swirly brain.
For months now, when I see friends and we chat about what’s going on, I will genuinely forget large portions of my life. How are you? Good. Busy. I’ve been helping out our MOPS group and taking care of the kids as usual. I’m serving with our church’s children’s ministry and doing some DoTERRA stuff. Then, after 15 minutes of me rambling on they’ll ask, So are you still teaching piano? Oh! Yeah, I am. I forgot. Also, I’m writing now. Oh, geez, and I’m gonna be commissioned as a Stephen Minister. I forgot. I forgot. And the snow globe snow churns around and I wonder if I’ve forgotten something or someone important. I also have this niggling suspicion that the distractions are intentional and that right thought is not a mandatory prerequisite for right action.
Joshua Tree National Park
I never met Rachel Held Evans, often referred to online as RHE. I’ve read some of her books and much of her blog and followed her on Twitter. I’m surprised at how much it hurts to know she died. Others have written much better than I about how and why she spoke for a generation. Her writing, her advocacy, her speaking, her generosity, her character impacted thousands. Maybe millions. Twitter trended with #becauseofRHE and we wept, us unknown women and men whom she inspired. She made us feel beloved. She spoke words I was afraid to say and to trust. She asked questions with no easy answers. She loved when it was risky to do so.
Because of her I want to write well, be bolder, to speak love into the dark places. I want my life to be about loving others so that we might all be a little more free, a little more kind.
I was reading Psalm 23 and heard v. 3b-4a a little differently this time. “He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me.” In the past, this has always sounded like God guides us to right paths, and we associate those paths with the green pastures and still waters of verse 2, not the difficulty of verse 4. The path through the darkest valleys always seems like where we wander, away from the right path, but never fear, God is near. This time I see that sometimes the right path is the one through the darkest valley. The valley of the shadow of death.
In John 10, Jesus says he is the gate and the good shepherd. He leads and we follow His voice. The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy, but the voice of Jesus, the life of Jesus, the way of Jesus, leads to life, abundant. Through him, we may go out. And we may come in. We may find pasture. This kind of life, listening to the voice of God, makes Psalm 23:6 happen. The result, the benefit of keeping our eyes on Jesus, of obedience to his voice means goodness and mercy shall follow me like the wake of a boat. RHE had a wide wake and the world is a better place because of her. May the goodness and mercy her life produced ripple out through the generations.
39 One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? 41 We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.43 Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
In Luke 23:39-43, the criminals being crucified with Jesus cry out to him. One scorns him for not saving them from their punishment. He demands mercy as if mercy were somehow an escape from consequence. The other accepts his punishment and, with a faith I can barely comprehend, says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus, literally dying on a cross, responds, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”
We are meant to be horrified that Jesus is treated and condemned as a criminal. We’ve always seen and treated criminals as less than people, making an example of them of what not to do or be. It is really an example of our cruelty and viciousness. We are not so different from those we condemn.
What is awful is we must accept Jesus as a criminal – fake trial and everything. We let the “justice system” humiliate, torture, and tear him down and throw up our hands in resignation. The disciples, except for some women, abandon him. That is the point of the justice system. Not just to destroy Jesus, but to terrorize and humiliate his followers. We’ve always thought the death penalty was an effective means of stopping people from committing crimes. The crucifixion’s affect on Christianity gives a pretty good idea of the death penalty’s efficacy.
What is amazing is it is an unnamed criminal who truly gets who Jesus is and dies with Him. Is that not what we profess in baptism? The man knows he deserves condemnation and confesses to Jesus. He submits himself to Jesus and, in return, Jesus forgives. Completely. Instantly. The man knows that, even as an actual criminal, he can trust Jesus, he can turn toward goodness, and can even boldly ask for a place in the Kingdom of God.
Jesus response tells us, the Kingdom of God will have criminals in it. Some of them will even be guilty of crimes.
Am I making any progress? What does progress look like?
I started writing to record how was changing and transforming me in regards to my relationship with money. My premise is God cares about the marketplace insofar as how money is yet another way to love God and love others. God has already been working on this in me for at least a year and a half, if not longer. The process is slow.
Is it slow because God’s time is different than my time? Is it slow because I still don’t really understand or have a clear vision of what the final goal is? Or is it slow because I’m distracted by the rest of life and using those distractions to avoid possibly difficult changes I need to make?
What does a healthy, God-honoring relationship with money look like?
A growing desire and discipline of generosity
A clear understanding of need vs. want
The ability to save and delay gratification
Freedom from worry/anxiety about money
Confidence that how money is earned and used is pleasing to God – environmentally sustainable, fair wages, reduced waste.
Well, at least, that’s what I want from this process. What does God want?
On the one hand, I think my desire and ability to be generous has grown. I feel more confident in being generous with friends and family and strangers. Trusting that God will bless the gifts given and is pleased with my efforts to be faithful and generous and kind. In doing our taxes, I discovered that we gave away around 5% of our gross income to charitable organizations. This is an improvement from last year, and I’m really glad for that. I’m curious what life would be like if we reached the biblical tithe 10%. Is it progress if we give away 6-7% this year? Preparing our tax return is the only time I really track what we give away. It was really lovely to remember what had moved our hearts to give and rekindled the hope that the gifts given were a blessing to others.
Additionally, I am preparing to end my work as a piano teacher. I have wanted to stop for several years but have continued on because the income became so valuable. What started as a way to earn an income became the chance to make music, teach, work outside the home, and build relationships with other kids. However, piano teaching is not my passion. It was not meant to be my career. Leaving it seems foolish and yet it is a daring act of faith for me. It grieves me to think about ending these relationships and this work. I don’t know what I am moving on to. There’s no new job on the horizon and I don’t know how we’ll cut expenses. I should be terrified. I have children to care for. Mostly, this is faith and hope. I trust God will provide a way. I believe God will help me reduce expenses, provide new work and new income, or some other God-way through this. I am trusting that by letting go of this that the changes ahead will transform and discipline me to be able to save, delay gratification, understand the difference between need vs. want.
On the other hand, I still don’t know if I’m getting any better. I spend more money than I want to in restaurants and fast food. I meal plan for the whole week and usually prepare to make 7 dinners with enough leftovers for lunch. Eating out should really be a once in a while treat. Truthfully, we eat out about once or twice a week. We get tired of cooking and cleaning. We get busy and run out of time to make something at home. Buying a meal out means we can spend more time with each other, support the local restaurants, and enjoy the company of friends. It also means spending more money, dealing with excess salt and sugar in our diets, and frequently, we’re still tired and the kids are overstimulated. Also, there’s so much waste – fast food leftovers in styrofoam is disgusting. I feel guilty. Does God care about this? Is a weekly break in meal planning/prep/cleanup a want or need?
If we had more more money, I don’t know that we’d eat out more often or eat at better restaurants. Mostly, I wish I just didn’t feel bad about it. Specifically, I wish it wasn’t so unhealthy and I wish the cost wasn’t such a large percentage of our budget. If I’m honest, the ease and convenience of dining out is valuable. I enjoy cooking and I like the meals I make but I don’t know that I want to make every meal every week. That sounds like a lot of work and lot of being at home. What would progress look like?
33 “Listen to another parable: There was a landowner who planted a vineyard. He put a wall around it, dug a winepress in it and built a watchtower. Then he rented the vineyard to some farmers and moved to another place. 34 When the harvest time approached, he sent his servants to the tenants to collect his fruit.
35 “The tenants seized his servants; they beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. 36 Then he sent other servants to them, more than the first time, and the tenants treated them the same way. 37 Last of all, he sent his son to them. ‘They will respect my son,’ he said.
38 “But when the tenants saw the son, they said to each other, ‘This is the heir. Come, let’s kill him and take his inheritance.’ 39 So they took him and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.
40 “Therefore, when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”
41 “He will bring those wretches to a wretched end,” they replied, “and he will rent the vineyard to other tenants, who will give him his share of the crop at harvest time.”
I’ve heard this parable many times before. Like the other parables Jesus told, the characters in the story represent others. God is the landowner. People, especially the Pharisees and chief priests, are the tenants. The prophets of the Old Testament are the servants, and Jesus is, of course, the son. Jesus is making the point that those listening to him will, ultimately, reject him and that rejecting Jesus is rejecting the kingdom of God.
This time, I saw the story through a financial lens and heard, for the first time (?), how shocking and surprising the parable is.
In verse 33, Jesus gives the setup of the story. I imagine even the first listeners would have immediately understood the landowner to be God. God is the owner of all land. God plants and causes the sun to shine, and rain to fall, and the seeds to sprout open and grow. God protects and defines with the wall and the watchtower; this would be God’s Law. God prepares for a harvest by digging the wine press and renting to tenants. The world belongs to God, who then gives to his tenants — us — the place to live, the work to do, the purpose to fulfill, the protection we need, the hope for a future.
Verse 34 is not at all surprising. The landowner sends servants to “collect his fruit.” Of course it is his fruit. It is his land. That the tenants have lived on the land and co-operated in working to produce the harvest does not make what is produced theirs. It too belongs to the landowner. The only thing mildly surprising is that, if we already know the landowner is God and we remember our Hebrew history and law, then we might expect him to collect his tithe – the first fruits, his portion. But the landowner comes to “collect his fruit.” This is not to imply that God comes to strip us of the means to meet our needs by taking all our food, stripping us of all we have worked hard to create. But it is implying there is no portion that belongs to God; it all belongs to God. It is faith that God will use what belongs to Him to bless us. To not just meet our needs for food and clothing and work, but to give us beauty, hope, a sense of accomplishment, a relationship rooted in trust and profound love.
Verse 35 is like a cold cup of water thrown at the face. The tenants beat and kill the servants. What?!?! Why? What are they thinking? What’s their plan? What do they think is gonna happen? Why are they so violent and angry? I mean, if they didn’t want to pay (if they wanted to reject God’s call on their life), did they really have to act so viciously and violently? Holy crap. Though, I suppose it raises the question, is it possible to reject God in a non-violent way? Or is all rejection of God in some way vicious and violent?
Verse 36 is to make a point. The landowner sends even more servants and they are also beaten and killed. Now, this kind of makes sense. You own something and send a few to collect. When they are unable to collect, you send a larger posse, maybe stronger, burly, scarier people to collect what is yours. But when even the toughest servants are unable to return, what do you do next?
Verse 37-38 is where we learn that everybody in the story is insane. Having unsuccessfully retrieved what is his through several servants, the landowner sends his son because “they will respect my son.” I don’t know if the first-century hearers would have heard this and thought, “Ah yes, solid plan. This has obviously been an issue of respect with these tenant-farmers-turned-murderers.” I’m aghast. The landowner is foolish to think his son will be any more successful than the previous servants. Why make the landowner appear foolish?
I’m reminded of Paul’s writing in 1 Corinthians, “For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.” (verses 18-19) Perhaps the landowner isn’t interested in having a transactional relationship with the tenants. I give you this, you give me that. Perhaps the landowner offers yet another opportunity for the tenants to choose to give the fruit because the landowner desires respect and mutuality, not fear or commerce. He sends his son to show, in the flesh, what the owners are like.
Surely even the first hearers were not surprised when the tenants kill the son in verse 39. What is shocking is the admission they make in verse 38. “Let’s kill him and take his inheritance.” They actually say it out loud. Their plan really has been to forcibly take from the owner all that has already been given to them. Do they honestly think this will work? Do we? They’ve stated what we all believe and exposed our insanity. This is mine. I worked for it. I earned it. It is reasonable for me to keep things from God. If I ignore Jesus or reject God’s call on my life or God’s Law or the whispers of the Holy Spirit, I will totally be able to keep everything in my life for myself. I am more powerful, wiser, stronger than God. Insane.
When Jesus then asks his audience what they think the landowner’s next move will be, they state the obvious. Having unsuccessfully gotten the tenants to do the right thing of their choosing, the landowner will (should) forcibly take what is his. He will kill them and give the land to others who will tend it and give to God what belongs to God.
42 Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the Scriptures: “‘The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; the Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes’? 43 “Therefore I tell you that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people who will produce its fruit.
What is the fruit of the kingdom of God? What is it God wishes us to produce and return to Him? Is it not love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control? God doesn’t care about our income or money in and of themselves. As always, God cares how those things prevent or hinder the kingdom of God becoming alive in you and your community. What are you producing in your life? Or, what is your life producing? What do you wish you could keep for yourself? Or, what are you afraid of giving to God?
Part of a household economy is managing how things get out of the home. This is particularly true for the tangible things we buy – food, clothes, toys, books, etc. Where will it all go?
A home economy begins with buying and how to make purchases that are fiscally, ethically, and theologically responsible. Money goes out and goods come in.
The second part of household economy is what to do with the stuff that comes in. Where is it stored? How is it used? Who cleans and maintains the things we keep?
It’s the last part — how does the stuff go out — that I finally began researching. This seemed like an easy place to make some changes that would help me manage money and things in a more God-honoring way. Turns out it’s both easier and more complicated than I thought. I focused primarily on recycling those things we buy and throw out regularly. At multiple times doing this research, I have been frustrated and confused. Why is it so hard to figure out what can and cannot be recycled? Why is it so much work to waste less?
Here was my starting place:
Because earth was created by God, belongs to God, and reflects God’s glory, it’s important to reduce the amount of and harm caused by the things we dispose. Being a good steward of resources means intentional, thoughtful disposal of things that are no longer needed or useful. So…
What can be recycled in our curbside bin? What, if any, preparation is needed for items going in the bin?
Paper goods: why can’t I recycle coffee/tea paper cups but I can recycle soup and juice boxes? Why can’t greasy pizza boxes be recycled? Can I recycle glittery greeting cards? What about stickers because, oh God, the stickers.
Is recycling tin cans still a thing?
What about the clothes we need to get rid of but can’t donate? I’m looking at you hole-y socks and old underwear.
What’s the latest on recycling plastic?
What should I do with our food waste?
Thankfully, my city updated their recycling info and graphics!
I printed it, laminated it, and taped it to our recycle bin. Step 1 in being a better recycler complete. Yes, cardboard needs to be broken down before going in the bin. Yes, tin cans are recyclable. Yes, you can recycle juice and soup boxes, but not coffee and tea paper cups. No, you can’t recycle plastic bags in the curbside bin. However, it didn’t quite answer all my questions.
The city website linked to earth911.com. This site answered a lot of why questions. It has everything broken into categories and sub-categories.
Why can I recycle cardboard but not pizza boxes? Food contamination. Food contaminates the recycling process for paper products because it involves adding water and making a slurry. Since the oils don’t mix with water, the resulting film ruins the slurry. Good to know. Also, be sure to remove the lid from tin cans, insert it in the can, rinse it, and pinch the top closed so birds or cats won’t get stuck trying to get scraps out of it.
I kinda love this site. The info is easy to access but not all of it is applicable. It says to flatten cardboard boxes and not worry about removing packing tape. Cardboard is recycled by being separated from other paper products, baled, and sent to a mill where water and chemicals break down the fibers and remove the ink and tape. However, it says to remove packing peanuts and plastics, but my curbside program collects plastics too (though not packing peanuts) so maybe I don’t have to remove them? I’ll have to ask. Glass bottles and jars are perfect for recycling; they are the quickest recycled-packaging process. Labels or any non-liquids, like a lime wedge, don’t need to be removed but, don’t break the glass since there is “no market for recycling broken glass.” But, according to this terrible company video about recycling, glass is broken into tiny pieces called cullet as part of the recycling process. I discovered elsewhere the concern over broken glass is that it contaminates the other recycling streams – like metals, plastics, paper.
I learned there are programs available for recycling old clothes that aren’t suitable for donation. Clothes in great/good condition can be resold at consignment or donated. We like to donate either to our MOPS (Moms of Preschoolers) group or our local Buy Nothing Group (talked more about that here). Otherwise clothes can be recycled through USagain bins and there’s one of those less than a mile from home.
Cartons, like the ones that hold juice and soup, are now recyclable in 48% of households even though they have layers of plastic and/or aluminum inside to prevent the liquids from soaking the paper of the carton. So, why not coffee paper cups? I asked my local waste management company. Turns out the answer is an economic issue: there’s no market for recycling one-time use coffee/tea/soda cups.
Overall, plastic is ridiculous. There are more than 7 types of plastic. Some are recyclable, some are not. This website explains the types of plastic and why it’s a complicated matter. https://learn.eartheasy.com/articles/plastics-by-the-numbers/ Using earth911’s recycling locator, it appears we can recycle quite a bit of our plastics curbside (even toys). However, plastic bags have to be taken to a nearby grocery store as do bread bags and dry-cleaning bags, and the plastic around paper towels and newspapers. It’s only a little extra work to periodically take the bag of bags collecting under our sink to the store. Right now we reuse those bags to collect our food waste and throw it in the trash, but now I’m wondering if there’s a better way. Because, honestly, there’s no way to read all this stuff and not come across ideas like Zero Waste and Composting. I’ll jump down that rabbit hole soon.
Not surprisingly, when it comes to recycling a couple things remain true.
1) The best thing to do for the environment is consume less. When purchasing/consuming, 2) it’s always better to reuse. Buy secondhand. Buy products using recycled materials.
Single-use products are by far the least likely to be recyclable and most likely to go to landfills and stay there forever. It’s gotten easier to remember to bring bags when shopping and reusable bottles for water or coffee. Would it be weird to bring reusable to-go containers when we eat out? I feel like that would be weird. But, see, I hate styrofoam. 3) Recycling curbside in our area is thankfully fairly easy and covers most items. Sadly, this is not true for many towns. The few things that we regularly need to recycle, but can’t do curbside, are plastic bags and clothes, and it’s really not that much more work to make a quick trip to the USagain bin and Vons.
Recycling seems like the obvious right thing to do, but there are downsides. Concerns about the safety and health for those working at the recycling centers when dealing with the waste and the chemicals needed to treat it as well as what happens to the waste by-products created in the recycling process. Recycling centers are industrial plants and impact the air quality and soil composition at its location. Also, when it comes to recycling plastic, much of it is actually “downcycled.” This means that a plastic bottle can’t be recycled to be a new plastic bottle, but becomes clothing fibers or park benches – things that can’t be recycled again. A bigger issue mentioned here is that household recycling is merely a tiny drop compared to the bucket of waste created in the industrial production of items.
The real reasons why recycling is difficult and not the final solution are the financial and political costs. Many cities can’t afford to offer curbside recycling or only offer very limited options, like aluminum cans and glass. Recycling companies need a buyer for the recycled products before they’re willing to front the costs. And there’s the politics. As the piece from Scientific American above mentioned, plastic companies simultaneously encourage plastic recycling to push the issue onto the consumer, but then lobby aggressively to prevent incentivizing consumers to use less plastic. So while those cities with plastic bag bans or fees for using them have seen dramatic reductions in their plastic waste, in response, some states, in the name of personal freedom, are banning cities from making those kinds of laws. The site Waste Dive stays on top of all the changes in the politics of recycling and production. For an emotional roller coaster, read here. Thus, in addition to doing my part in our home, it sounds like supporting legislation that incentivizes companies and cities and citizens to be less wasteful and recycle will have a bigger impact.
Happily, now I understand how I can do my small part in our home. I don’t care that it’s small and probably won’t change the world. It’s the right thing to do. Now, though, I’m curious about going further with the ideas of zero-waste and composting. Just how crunchy am I going to become?
I only read my Twitter feed at night after the kids have gone to bed. Last week a friend commented on this Twitter thread.
At 38, I’m not always considered a Millennial, but this made me wonder: how many jobs have I had?
My employment history is a hodgepodge of hopes pursued and the reality of capability and necessity. The ever-present struggle of could do vs. should do continues. Some jobs were just work – a way to make money and pay the bills. Some were career jobs. Lots were gigs. And I’m not sure I’ve ever just worked one job at a time. Honestly, I can’t remember.
My first job was working a retail job at the local mall in high school. That was dreadful. I’m not sure I lasted the season. Then I worked for a local drycleaners. I took in orders, organized the clean clothes and covered them with the familiar plastic, and worked the register.
In college, I got a steady job doing data entry, collating tax returns, and some easy bookkeeping for a couple of accountants. I did that for a few years and then switched to being a waitress. I served at two restaurants, and learned a lot about people.
My first degree is in music. So there’s an entire section of my work history that is just gigs. Some were steady employment, like when I was a singer in a church choir. That led to being a handbell director and director of children’s choirs for the church as well. Three jobs, one location. In college, I got a gig singing Little Red Riding Hood in a musical at elementary schools. Most gigs were one-time deals. I once sang in the backup choir for Barry Manilow at his New Year’s Eve concert. That was fun. I almost got to perform on stage at the Oscar’s one year, but then the U.S. invaded Iraq and the song we rehearsed was cancelled that day. The life of a musician. Each gig is different – new music, new conductor, new location, new pay rate, new dress code. It is possible to pursue it as a career and join the union, but it’s not like joining other trade unions. You don’t just get a union job and pay the dues. Besides, in Los Angeles, there’s tons of non-union work to be done. Regardless, most gigs you do for the income. It’s risky to say no if you’re offered work. Good gigs mean you’re compensated fairly, treated like a human being, and maybe perform in a new venue or premiere a new work or collaborate with someone you admire. In every gig is the hope that maybe it’ll lead to another gig, another opportunity to do what you love for pay. I have no idea how many gigs I’ve gotten to do. So, I’ll count singer as one job.
My graduate degree is from seminary. The other half of my employment history is the ministry side. I’ve been a Director of Youth Ministries, a Sunday School Director, and an Associate Minister. My favorite ministry job was as a hospital chaplain, which I served at both as an intern in one hospital and as a resident in another. Once I was hired as a speaker for a women’s retreat. These were career employment, but they paid less per hour.
When I became a mom, we decided I’d be the stay-at-home parent until the kids were in school full-time. I continued working as a piano teacher and singer because I could control how much and when I needed to work. Christmas and Easter are my busy seasons. Just last week I got two new gigs, and lost one. I’ve also done some side-hustles — as a substitute teacher in a middle school and as a DoTERRA wellness advocate.
So how many jobs is that in 20 years of working? 17? 18? I’m not complaining. My pursuit of employment in the music field and ministry should be a pretty clear indication that I don’t work for the money. Some jobs I was well-suited for and even paid fairly. At many, I have been incredibly under paid and/or were unnecessarily stressful. I have broken down sobbing at more than one place of employment. I used to think it was because I’m “emotional.” Now, I know better. I’m capable and reliable. Some employers are just dysfunctional. I didn’t always feel I could leave even though the lack of stability or a living wage has always been mitigated either by my spouse’s income, and, before that, help from my parents.
I remember being in high school and being told that, unlike previous generations who would probably have one career and work for a few companies in their lifetime, I should prepare myself for 5-7 careers. I was encouraged to go to college because a degree would give me flexibility and a network.
Interestingly, my husband is only 3 years older than me. He went into engineering largely because he could make a good, steady income doing something he reasonably enjoyed. I asked him how many jobs he’s had. He’s worked his current job as an engineer for 14 years! Before that, he did work for a temp agency, one internship, and, of course, mowed lawns as a kid. So, if we combine all the temp jobs as 1 job, then he’s had 4 jobs. Even counting the temp jobs separately, I think he still comes in under 10 jobs.
In the Twitter thread I commented on, 17 was not an unusual number for the Millenials responding. Almost all worked more than one job at a time. As the kids get older and go to school, I’m ready to work more, so the question is: what’re jobs 18-20 going to be?
