Lately, I've been thinking about what life looks like when you have a "scarcity mindset." Both as individuals and as groups, like churches or boards or volunteer organizations.
"Scarcity affects our thinking and feeling. Scarcity orients the mind automatically and powerfully toward unfulfilled needs. For example, food grabs the focus of the hungry. For the lonely person, scarcity may come in poverty of social isolation and a lack of companionship." (Read more here.)
Groups often think they don't have enough to do the work that needs to be done. Not enough people. Not enough money. Not enough time.
Individuals often think they'll never be good enough. Or smart enough. Or successful enough. Or happy enough. (That's a link to a previous chapter that ponders the same themes in today's chapter.)
There's this neverending longing to be enough. To be perfect. To be able to do it all and to do it impressively well.
The thing is ... we aren't ever going to be able to be all those things. Or do all those things. Maybe we'll look like it on the outside, but the insides will never match. It's part of being human.
"If only we could trust that the giving of ourselves, with all our imperfections, has a value beyond rubies. We need a deep permission. Permission to ask for help. Permission to get better. Permission to fail" (p 163).
In their "A Prayer for When You Feel Like You're Not Enough" on page 164, Jessica and Kate write,
"There are cracks in everything, but You fill them with love. Fill me with Your divine presence that is entirely unimpressed by my attempts at perfection."
And maybe this Leonard Cohen song flashed through your mind when you read that. (Remember when I preached a whole sermon series on that song?)
But what immediately came to my mind is the Japanese art of kintsugi, in which broken pottery is repaired using powdered gold, platinum, or silver.
Kintsugi pottery, as a philosophy, views shattering and restoration as a natural part of cracked pots’ history, instead of something which should be hidden.
We all have cracks - individuals and groups. Why not fill them with love (instead of fear)?
Blessed are we who see that intrinsic worth comes, not through our talents, but from You. Thank you for saving us from our own dreams of perfection.
Pastor Allison
I'm curious:
Look at this bowl.
See the cracks in it. The imperfections. There's even a piece missing. Not every crack can be mended, I suppose, but the bowl is still beautiful.
Imagine running your finger over the thin gold threads holding the broken pieces together, mending them.
You may never be able to use this as a soup bowl again - because of the missing piece - but think of all the things it still can hold.
On page 165, they describe the sacred rhythm or spiritual practice of "visio divina" - "divine seeing." Contemplating art - like looking at this picture - is a spiritual practice you can do anywhere.
They write, "Let's try it. Pick an image. It can be art on your wall, or you can pull up something online, or head to a local art exhibit, or visit an outdoor mural. Settle in. Ask God to reveal God's self through the work of art. Rest your eyes on the image and drink it in for several minutes. How do you feel? If you are in this image, where are you? Are there words that arise from this practice? What is God showing you?"
Why don't you try it?
