Life in the Suburbs

So its been a few months, and here's what I've learned so far about life in the burbs: they are a dangerous place to live. I don't mean dangerous as in you might experience a home invasion by a strung-out meth addict (the kids' have an uncle who regularly reminds me that this is a distinct possibility and is very disappointed when I don't produce an emergency plan for that situation), but eternally dangerous.

There is nothing objectively bad about the suburbs with its comforts and conveniences- don't get me wrong, I love my big bathroom and spacious shower (its a big change from the double-wide), but its a slippery slope. In the midst of so many blessings it can be harder to remember who it is who gave them. I've never worried about money or finances until now, which is ridiculous because I have more than I need. But being surounded by people with portfolios (and not the art kind thank you very much) and IRAs, I find myself feeling the need to save more "just in case." Savings won't bring me security, just a false sense of it that can be very dangerous. Comforts and conveniences can make us forget to turn to God in our need; they can make us lazy and complacent if we aren't vigilant.

At the end of the day though, it like the psalmist says, "He has put into my heart a greater joy than they have from abundance of corn and new wine." I think I'll be okay here in the burbs, as long as I keep my eyes on the Giver and not the gifts.