I have way too much stuff.  After two days away in a crisp new tent with a leaky blowup mattress, this is what I come up with.  For two days we were able to survive (quite contentedly, I might add) with a pack of paper plates, a cooler full of ice and goodies, some stashed away toilet paper and some bug spray.

I have to say, my home and the contents therein seemed quite trivial after being in God’s natural cathedral, away from the hustle and demands of everyday living.  The truth is, I find that as Americans we are driven, not by need, but by some foreign ambition to have more of what we don’t need.  While I was grateful for a hot shower and my own fluffy mattress, I came home renewed in my choice to live on less and for less.  I already have everything I could ever want and my feeling of contentedness is simply a choice.  I can let commercialism, television, magazines and media persuade me that I am missing out, but it is just not true.  They are the ones missing out, and I smile to myself as I reminisce our two nights under the stars.  When I am not striving to be more and to have more, I don’t have to miss my grubby boys’ faces as they find treasures hidden in the dirt, or feel the excessively tight squeeze of a 10-year-old girl who “don’t ever want to grow up,” as she puts her arms around me.

Scaling back seems scary but in truth only adds value to the things you value enough to keep.  The result:  More time…