It’s not a word I use every day, and it’s not something I’m prone to thinking about – in fact, oftentimes, it’s easier for me to live in the opposite camp of scarcity.
There’s not any food in this house.
I don’t have anything to say.
There’s not enough time in the day.
I’ll never be as good a writer/speaker/mother/friend/fill-in-the-blank as her.
And so it goes.
I begin to believe in the never’s and the not good enough’s.
I begin to believe that scarcity is all there is to life, to creativity, to faith, and to me.
But lately, a war has been rising against scarcity. My friend Abby is devoting a whole month to scarcity’s lies. Elizabeth Gilbert talked about it a couple weeks ago at a Q & A for her new book, Big Magic. Jen Hatmaker recently wrote about it in For the Love, and let’s be honest, Jesus is quite the fan of letting people know that there’s room for everyone at the table.
So when am I going to actually believe it?
When are you and I, and him and her, and us and them, and all of the humans in the world actually going to join in believing that there’s room for us? That who we are right now is enough, that our gifts and talents and uniquely special us-ness is not only wanted but needed? When are we going to believe that there’s room for all of us?
Oftentimes I doubt my words.
I call myself a writer, but when I don’t have an agent, and I don’t have a book contract, and I still haven’t finished my manuscript, the devil of scarcity begins to creep its way in. I get so caught up in the ongoing conversation in my head – the one that’s plagued with doubt and worry and lies of not being good enough – that I think that’s the end of the story. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake, stepping into this world of words, and I begin to believe that the door’s already slammed shut, that all the books of this world have already been written, that there isn’t room enough for me.
But there is.
There’s room at the table for you and for me, for him and for her, and for us and for them, and – again, again, again – for all of the humans in the world.
So, I’m beginning to trust in abundance, and I’m beginning to believe that this abundance happens on its own time and in its own rhythm. I don’t know if the manuscript I’m writing right now will actually, technically be picked up by a publisher and brought to the presses, but I do know that it’s brought about a whole lot of healing for me. I do know that it’s taught me to write beyond what is comfortable, to craft a story that is not merely 800 words in length, but 80 times 800 words in length. And I do know that there are a whole lot of stories and a hoard of books hidden within me.
I know this because I know abundance.
And frankly, the abundance-believing train is a whole lot more fun to ride than the decrepit scarcity wagon.
Don’t you think?
For reals: abundance vs. scarcity. What do you think? Share, share, share!