Wanting Things

I used to think that I was not a very materialistic person, but it seems like lately all I can think about is buying things. It feels like every day I add something(s) to the list of things that I want. And it never feels like enough, even when I get them: the list continues to grow. I got the new cellphone, but then I needed a bluetooth headset. I've got fifty purses, but I can't stop thinking about this messenger bag I've had my eye on for months (now on sale, but still unjustifiable given the many, many messenger bags and laptop cases I've got in my closet). I got the turquoise cuff, but now I want pink pearls. And I don't even wear jewelry. What's happening to me? It's like the evil spirits of greed and desire and envy have come to rest in my body and made themselves at home.

Something else is happening. It sounds cliched, but it's true. There's a hole in my spirit that I keep trying to fill with things. The things I want are just building blocks, and I'm using them to try to construct the person I want to be, the life I want to lead. But it doesn't work that way. I'm not going to be a better person with my new Coach purse. I'm not going to be more beloved for owning one more cashmere sweater. I already have so many things, material and intangible, for which to be thankful.

I hate how this season has been coopted by retailers. We worry about buying the right things, trying to fulfill people's material desires, and it's sickening when you compare this preoccupation with the real reason for the season: that Christ's birth was a creation-changing occasion, the arrival of God in the flesh. And He came for one reason: to die on a cross, in order to save us. Christmas is really about Calgary and Easter.

Let me remember this, and be tempted no more.