Note: This is a guest post from Cheryl Smith of Biblical Minimalism.
I was raised in a household with an income that fell below the poverty line. Dad’s upbringing was in a home with an even lower income. He only achieved an 8th-grade education, and because of that, he had to be one of the hardest workers I have ever known. Mom was a dedicated stay-at-home wife and mother.
We had only one vehicle, so Mom and I usually drove Dad to and from work. One of the images engraved most indelibly in my mind is Dad walking toward our car, his clothes soaked with sweat from an honest-to-goodness hard day’s work. On payday, his wages seemed so meager and unequal to the amount of himself he poured into earning them.
Seeing Mom and Dad constantly worry about making ends meet no matter how hard Dad tried to provide for us lit a fire of dogged determination inside of me. I made up my mind that when I grew up, I would do anything I had to do to rise above such intense struggle to survive, even if that meant living above my means and financing everything I owned. That strong-willed sense of resolve to avoid “poverty” was alive and well when I met the man of my dreams, fell in love, and got married at the age of 21.
For the first several years of our marriage, my husband and I successfully accumulated the stuff that makes up the American dream. We both worked hard to meet the demands and expectations of what that “dream” should look like—home ownership, two jobs, two cars, lots of physical possessions, and a lavish amount of available credit to make it all come true. All along, it seemed so important to me to have the things I thought my parents “lacked.”
Then, while we weren’t looking, those long days turned into short years, and life had progressed to middle age. Dad, who had always been strong and stout and the hardest worker I ever knew, passed away long before his time. I watched as the ensuing sadness of widowhood consumed Mom’s heart and life. And then, after nearly twelve years of profound loneliness and health issues, she, too, passed away.
Standing beside both of my parents’ bedsides as their beyond-valuable, earthly lives came to an end, knowing they would no longer be part of my everyday life and feeling that sense of finality forced me to face my own mortality and was the most sobering thing I have ever experienced.
Suddenly, the fact that my parents lived their entire lives being “poor” didn’t seem so important. It didn’t seem so sad that they owned very little because they were not able to take one single thing with them from earth to Heaven anyway. They left this world just like they entered it. They brought nothing into it, and they carried nothing out. As their final breaths were breathed and their last feeble good-byes were spoken, the fact that they were poor was the farthest thing from our minds and meant nothing.
What did matter and what firmly remained was the strong foundation of faith they had so thoughtfully laid and upon which they had taught me to build, the value of hard work they had instilled in me, and the deep bond of love that even death will never be able to sever.
After Mom died, it took us only one day to go through her tiny apartment and pack up her, and what was left of Dad’s, belongings. There was no cause for beneficiary rivalry or squabbling over their possessions because living a life of necessitated minimalism removed that prospect. At that point, the fact that Mom and Dad were poor brought a great sense of relief.
Not long after Mom passed away, my little family and I felt an impassioned call toward a simple, minimal life. We sold what we had to pay what we owed, and with reckless abandon, gratefully released the “American dream” and all it demanded of us. We are now three years into this amazing adventure, 100% debt-free and have never been happier or more at peace.
The nuggets of wisdom I gleaned from being raised in a low-income family are countless, and I wouldn’t trade those life lessons for anything.
Here are ten of them.
1. People are worth immeasurably more than things.
2. Teaching your children how to live is much more important than anything money can buy.
3. It’s amazing how little it takes to survive if you learn to “make do” and improvise.
4. You don’t have to own something to love and enjoy it.
5. Experiences with the ones you love create the most precious memories, and most of the time cost nothing. Memories are lightweight, take up zero space, cannot be stolen, do not have to be maintained, and never cause worry. To invest in them is infinitely wiser than accumulating stuff.
6. It is smart to rent a home if “ownership” requires going into debt and living above your means.
7. Holding a clear title to one car is wiser than incurring debt to have two.
8. Grieving loved ones should not be laden with the added burden of dealing with excess, left-behind possessions.
9. Working hard never hurt anyone. In fact, there are few things more gratifying than the completion of a hard day’s work.
10. When you die, you take nothing from earth with you, and the main thing you should leave behind is the legacy of a life well-loved.
The other day, it occurred to me that we are, by choice, living a life that looks very similar to the life my parents lived, by necessity. It seems that I have come full circle in my way of thinking, and those childhood lessons were not lost after all. I finally fully appreciate their wisdom for what it’s truly worth.
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Cheryl Smith blogs at Biblical Minimalism. Her family sold their home, released 90% of their physical possessions, got out of debt, and now share their story and their Christian faith on their blog. Her book, Biblical Minimalism, is now available. In it, she approaches minimalism from a Biblical perspective.
Marsha says
The first 4 years my husband and I were married, he was in the Navy. We could and did move all our possessions in our car. Iron skillet under my carseat. Dishes, silverware, two cheap sauce pans, and clothes and a 12 inch black and white TV in back seat and trunk. Surfboard strapped to top of car. We rented furnished apartments and they were very happy years. We had nothing extra including money but we had a great church and I had a job. He was stationed in Florida but deployed to Vietnam. Back then there were no cell phones, no direct deposit to checking accounts, no credit cards. I never went hungry. Going to the beach was free entertainment. This was before children but even after we started our family we only had basic baby equipment like a crib, highchair, pumpkin seat (there were no baby car seats back then) and a diaper pail for the cloth diapers, very few baby clothes. Those were the good ole days!
Nan Woods says
Our lives were the same, such sweet memories. We were in San Diego 6 years & New London 3 when he went to subs then shore duty. Poor as Church mice with one memory that I chuckle about to this day…friends came to play cards (cheap entertainment!) & the girl opened our last canned good of green beans! She ate them cold out of the can! There were definitely some hungry days but kiddos were well fed! Cloth diapers! I was horrified at the thought of disposable diapers but grateful for gift of 6 months diaper service when 2nd baby arrived in ‘63. Vietnam years were tough on young parents, Westpac cruises were every 6-8 months and lasted up to 13 months for us. Still, our best years and now as a great-grandma more stories to share. ❤️ My best to you, kindred spirit.
Suzanne Croft says
Agree with all except rent. When you rent you are paying someone else’s mortgage and building nothing for your family. Your rent can be increased by hundreds of dollars and it becomes a no win game of constantly moving to fit your housing budget.1
Sarah Wells says
Honestly, speaking as an atheist, this way of thinking works for me too. I don’t believe in an afterlife or reincarnation so this is my one chance to be and experience life and love.
It also reminds me of an essay I had to write years ago in school about things I collect. The examples of things to write about were baseball cards, recipes, figurines, etc. I wrote about memories and lost points because I didn’t follow the assignment instructions.
Denise says
Thanks for your comment. I totally agree, I am an atheist my life is filled with few possessions but the love of elderly rescue animals. My heart is full.
Donna says
I grew up a missionary kid in a poor country (involved in war). We were very happy in a very simple way of living.
Lisa Philpott says
What a powerful writing…thank you Joshua, for sharing this.
Linda Gagne says
Joshua has hit every point in restructuring our lives! I attended a craft fair at the Mad River Valley in Vermont this past weekend. I saw every booth, admiring these artisans that spent hours, expense and imagination on their craft. I must have earnestly taken minimalism seriously. I bought nothing. Why? I didn’t need anything.