Trailer Love Poetry
Voluntary poverty is a great way to get ahead financially. Basically, the idea is that you and your household purposefully limit the amount of income you live on and save the rest. This works extremely well when you're trying to get out debt, save for a large purchase, or accumulate wealth. The idea is not to try to make more money- try to spend less.
My husband and I have been living in voluntary poverty for the past few years. We tithe 10% of our income, live on 30%, pay off debt with 20%, and save for our house with 40%.
Most of the time, it's really exciting and fun to see the progress we've made in building our house (sans building loan or mortgage), and paying off debt (the students loans will be gone by next August!) Sometimes, though, it really bites.
Trailer Love
I can feel the ball of my shoe wearing thin.
I thought that when I married you,
My handsome young husband,
That we’d arrived.
I thought I’d have new shoes from then on,
New shoes, nice bras, nice haircut.
But instead, here I am with tired shoes
In a tin-can trailer where the oven won’t work,
We use a fax machine as a telephone,
Do laundry at your mother’s house,
Have no space to entertain guests,
And wear hand-me-down clothes.
As you remind me- most of these things were my idea.
You know what I’ve learned?
Worn-out-shoes don’t matter
As long as I fall asleep next to you every night.
My haircut isn’t important
as long as we treat one another with kindness.
Our trailer is like a palace
And my shoes feel just fine
As long as we love each other.
My husband and I have been living in voluntary poverty for the past few years. We tithe 10% of our income, live on 30%, pay off debt with 20%, and save for our house with 40%.
Most of the time, it's really exciting and fun to see the progress we've made in building our house (sans building loan or mortgage), and paying off debt (the students loans will be gone by next August!) Sometimes, though, it really bites.
Trailer Love
I can feel the ball of my shoe wearing thin.
I thought that when I married you,
My handsome young husband,
That we’d arrived.
I thought I’d have new shoes from then on,
New shoes, nice bras, nice haircut.
But instead, here I am with tired shoes
In a tin-can trailer where the oven won’t work,
We use a fax machine as a telephone,
Do laundry at your mother’s house,
Have no space to entertain guests,
And wear hand-me-down clothes.
As you remind me- most of these things were my idea.
You know what I’ve learned?
Worn-out-shoes don’t matter
As long as I fall asleep next to you every night.
My haircut isn’t important
as long as we treat one another with kindness.
Our trailer is like a palace
And my shoes feel just fine
As long as we love each other.
You look good in Thrift store clothes!
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks, Papa!
ReplyDeleteDear Sandy, when you got married I told your dad that I was worried that you would not have to struggle enough to succeed. This was said in jest but now you have managed to create your own struggle to cement you together and look back on fondly but so grateful you are not there. Mamasita
ReplyDeleteawww tears in my eyes. So sweet
ReplyDelete