So this morning I was still thinking about last night, when one of our buyers came to claim a bunch of her stuff, and how weird it was to not have those things anymore. Now, I’m talking about unimportant things – like the container where I keep my spatulas. But I’ve had that container since my freshman year in college, and I kinda liked it. Not enough to take it overseas with us and risk it breaking in our luggage, but ya know, I would have kept it were we not going anywhere.

It’s so strange the things we think are important, that when it comes down to it, we think make our home a Home. I’m experiencing both a sadness in saying goodbye to inanimate objects and a freedom in getting rid of all but the basic necessities. I’m starting to feel like Chickpea, who says ‘goodbye’ when we leave both human beings and things (she says bye as we close up cardboard boxes, bye to the cow on the milk container, bye to the outside world in general when we go back in the house).

But I’m also experiencing joy in blessing my friends and family. Truly. It has been more fun that I expected to give our items to people that are blessing us, either financially and prayerfully as support partners, or simply in their friendship and encouragement, or both. It’s an unexpected gift for me.

Lately, every morning in my time with the Lord, He seems to remind me to hold tightly to the eternal, and hold loosely to the temporal. And that those eternal things are very few in number – basically, the Word of God and the souls of men. Everything else can stay or go, whatever He wants is fine.

It’s a good reminder when I’m up to my elbows in cardboard and am debating whether to wrap up my gravy boat and take it with us, or sell it so someone else can use it. I can look over at Chickpea, meticulously scribbling in her coloring book, and I am reminded that it’s the souls in my life that matter.

My gravy boat can stay or go, but Chickpea, she’s coming with us.

posted: 06 September 20
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