The Addiction to Spending
This January, after paying rent, I realized something – I am broke. I am flat-busted broke. I have not one dime to spend. And it’s itching at me that even though I have a roof over my head, food and water, gas in my car, and a job – I’m (we’re?) addicted to spending money.
We have credit cards and overdraft protection and think “I’m broke, but I still have means.” Well, what happens when you don’t have any more credit? What happens when your overdraft protection is spent and your credit card is maxed out? You know you’ll make next month’s payment when you get paid, but from now till then, even with everything all stocked up — you’ve got not a dime to spend.
No dining out, no morning coffee (not even gas station coffee), no snacks, no iTunes downloads, no sending out for anything delivery. I’m not whining, I’m just acknowledging a previously-subconscious itch that used to get scratched without a blink. I’m definitely grateful for what I have, and that I’m not going to starve (those of you who have seen me know that’s not going to happen) or go homeless.
We as young Americans, especially my demographic of just-out-of-university, job-seeking, low-income, know-nothing yuppies*, need to learn the lesson I’m learning quick: the sooner you identify the things you don’t have to spend money on, the better. I hope, and this is no curse, that all young people go broke at least once in their lives; that they’ll learn to ask for help and depend on themselves all at the same time; that they’ll learn to lean on Jesus for their provision.
Your parents probably tried to teach you the difference between wants and needs when you were young, not just because money was tight, but because they knew it was important for your future. All the older people reading today’s post are probably just nodding their heads going Uh huh, it’s about time one of you youngin’s figured this out and gave us credit.
*Young people, I say to you and to my peergroup as well, young as we are, we are yuppies – by choice or by resignation. The first step to being wiser, and yet immediately wet-blanketized, is admitting you don’t know diddley. Socrates knew it, and you can know it, too.