Worried about money? Me too! So is everybody I know. Everything that was already expensive, which is everything, is getting more expensive and is poised to get even more expensive. It’s hard to find even one glimmer of hope for the financial future. Taxes? Horrendous. Retirement savings? Dust in the wind. Treats for vacation? Don’t make me laugh. I’ve already warned the kids we’re going to have an Imagination Summer, and possibly an Imagination Christmas, because I’m the one who tends the budget in our house, and the writing on the wall spells out B-R-O-K-E.
That phrase “Imagination Christmas” is from “The Simpsons,” in the episode where the eye-wateringly wholesome Flanders family is broke because they spent all their money charitably sending Bart and Homer to Hawaii to have their fake leprosy treated. The Flanders family is there as a foil to their dreadful neighbors, but they’re also undeniably happy. And they are very clear-eyed about what is important in life.
I mention this because what I am going to say next may come across as unbearably Flanders-like in its optimism. But I can’t help it. The truth is, our family, broke as it is, is doing great. We are incredibly wealthy, and the more I look for it, the more evidence I find of our wealth. It just doesn’t happen to come in the form of money.
I told the kids: “Look, everything is expensive right now, and we probably won’t get to buy a lot of cool stuff this summer. But it’s O.K., because we already know how to be poor.” And they more or less agreed. There are so many things you can enjoy when you are poor—and some, it seems, that are easier to enjoy when you’re poor because you cannot lean on the crutches and the shortcuts that litter the path of the rich.
Let’s start with that line from “The Simpsons,” which our family quotes frequently. If you have running jokes in your family or friend set, do you know what a gift that is? It sounds like a little thing, but think about how bereft and impoverished you feel when someone has an inside joke that you’re not in on. Running jokes are gold. It is evidence that you’re so wealthy you live among a group of people who reliably laugh with you and also understand you completely when you say two or three words in a certain tone of voice. What a gift! Security, community, laughter, and it’s all free.
Also “Simpsons”-related: At age 50, I have calmed down, and I no longer torment myself over how thoroughly pop culture has saturated my family’s psyche. There was a time I would have rent my garments to think of how often we communicate via lines from TV shows, but I’ve let it go. We live in the time we live in, and we’re not hermits, and my kids have screens. That has not all been good, but it certainly hasn’t all been bad, either. We talk often about when it’s important to buck the trends and be uncool, and my kids seem to be willing to do that; so I don’t need to feel like a failure just because they are not cultural aliens. So that is another sign of my wealth: I look at my life and see that I’ve gotten a little wiser, and I can see that my kids are reasonably wise, too, according to their age. That is incredibly valuable, and definitely not something you can buy.
A big one: The great outdoors. I don’t even mean white water rafting or tent camping or knowing how to thrive for six weeks in the wilderness; I just mean going outside for a bit and knowing how to enjoy it. Not everyone knows how.
Our family is extraordinarily lucky to have a huge backyard with a little pine grove, a babbling brook to wade in and rich soil where just about any seed will thrive. But even when we lived in a dense neighborhood with only a little scrap of yard, we still had the sky. We had treetops that waved in the wind. We had birdsong and tenacious weeds finding a place to root in sidewalk cracks. It is a skill, learning to seek out emissaries from the natural world wherever you are, but like any skill, it can be learned.
Here’s how to learn it, even if you’re very busy: If you’re driving, slow down to get a closer look at passing wildlife. Occasionally, take the long way home, so you can coast through a side street where the trees are especially lovely in the fall. Think about fog, and notice how the light passes through it; roll the windows down and listen for moving water. See what you can smell on the wind when you pass by a forest or field. If your neighborhood is bright at night, spend an occasional evening staying up late to drive out to a spot where it’s dark, and go see what the stars are up to.
It is all free, and once you start becoming aware of the vast riches that surround us, it is hard to stop looking for more.
This may seem like a random list, but that is kind of the point: These are the signs of wealth that currently surround me, where I live, as I live. Your list may be different, but you most certainly do have wealth, one way or another. It is our job to make space for it, see it, delight in it—and thank God for it because he is the source of it all. It takes effort to build this habit. It’s harder than staring at your phone or shopping for nonsense online. But recognizing true wealth and thanking God is what makes you rich.
My kids are not Rod and Todd Flanders, and I am not Ned (nor, God forbid, Maude). My kids see their friends going on fancy vacations and getting all kinds of cool gadgets and toys, and they wish they had those things. I do, too! But I have asked them to stop and consider: Do the kids who have those things seem happier to you, overall? You see them every day. Are they contented? Do they just enjoy themselves constantly, all the time? Do they really have a better life than you do? My kids have to admit that they do not.
So there you have it. Being strapped for cash is not some kind of shortcut to simplicity and bliss; not by a long shot. The instability and stress that poverty can bring are really hard to deal with, and children do feel it when their parents are struggling. Sometimes poverty brings about some really unavoidable unpleasant things—noise, dirt, danger, disease. It is not materialistic to wish you could go to the doctor or have clean water or to be able to leave the house without looking over your shoulder. I get that because we have been there.
But, at the same time, there is something to be glad of, always. Wherever we were and whatever we were struggling with, there was tremendous wealth to be had. There was always the sky. There was always the sun. There was always something that could be planted and made to grow, something to enjoy together just by virtue of being together. There was always the satisfaction of knowing you are better than you used to be, better than you might have been.
This is probably the greatest gift of all, something that does not make it into the Flanders family sensibility at all: Gratitude toward God is a transcendent thing and therefore tends to grow. It is not just a matter of looking on the bright side and making do. It is more like tapping into a mighty river. Thanking God for little riches multiplies them, until you find yourself buried in gladness under the sheer weight of the wealth of your life.
There is always something good from God. Notice it, delight in it, and thank him.
