Who will save my impatient soul?

Sometimes you can't have it all. Sometimes what you want isn't good to have right now. Sometimes it will never be good, or maybe it will be good later. I can't answer this question for you; I can't even answer this question for myself.

That's the thing about thrift. You can't have what you want at the exact moment that you want it. You have to wait for the time to be right, for the thrifting planets to be in alignment, so to speak.

Now I love to spout the wonder of thrift in every aspect of life, but when it threatens to delay my happiness, I start to waver. My western mindset threatens to overwhelm the wisdom of simplicity that permeates my soul. It shouts, "You need this now...not later!...Patience is not a virtue; it's a sign of weakness!" And so it goes; and so it goes.

When I was a kid, I didn't think I was very pious. I thought that in the big battle of good and evil, I probably leaned more to the latter. Late at night, I begged God to save my soul, my poor little eight-year-old soul-it was bleak. I look back on that now and think, "I want to give that kid a hug, and maybe some more dinner." I don't know if I've moved too far from that. I still need a hug, and more dinner. But at least I love myself; that's growth. But I'm still impatient, and hope still scares me. If I want something, I believe that I won't get it. If I love something, I will lose it. If I am impatient, I will be punished. Still pretty bleak, huh?

Thrift isn't hopeful for every one. Thrift looks like trash, like loving someone else's trash, and that isn't attractive to a lot of people. But I'm not giving up on trash. Trash is a beautiful thing. Trash, I love you. And I will be patiently waiting to find you, or for you to find me, whichever comes first.