I used to love stuff.
When I was a child, if someone was getting rid of something, my oft-heard exclamation was "I'll take it!" The evidence was obvious in my desk--one of the old-fashioned ones with an attached seat and a lid that lifts to reveal space beneath for books and supplies. As people relinquished their items to me, my desk became the final resting spot for a wild assortment of clutter until the lid no longer shut, rising higher and higher with each "I'll take it!" declaration. I suppose every once in a while my parents would insist that I really must clean it out, so I would. I remember piles and piles of stuff to get rid of, and a neat (small) pile of things deemed worthy of remaining in my desk. I also remember the satisfaction that came from having such a neat, cleaned-out, orderly desk, which stayed with me until the next time someone was getting rid of something...and the whole cycle started over again. :)
When I was in my early 20s and read about the concept of love languages, I felt justified in my habit of keeping stuff. After all, Gifts was one of the love languages, and was obviously one of the biggies for me. Clearly the stuff I had wasn't just stuff, but was, in fact, love that could be seen and touched and held. A mug wasn't just a mug...it was love. Dried roses weren't just dried roses...they were love. A t-shirt from the camp I worked at one summer wasn't just a t-shirt...it was love. And so forth...
I got a little older and had to move all that stuff a few times which, one could say, somewhat lessened my appreciation for all of it. ;-) And then something even more significant happened that, I believe, was used by God to break, once and for all, my unhealthy allegiance to things.
After five and a half years of living in California (and accumulating more possessions), Jeff and I and seven-month-old Josiah moved to Israel, taking only a few suitcases of stuff with us. And what happened to the rest of our things? Much of it we got rid of, either selling it or giving it away. A few items that were most important to us (our grand piano, my cedar chest made from cedar trees that grew on my grandparent's farm in Pennsylvania, etc.) went to Jeff's sister Kim's house in the eastern part of San Diego county. The rest we stored in a small storage unit in San Diego until such a time as we might return to the States and be able to use it again.
When we had thus disposed of all of our things, I felt like God had really tested my heart in that area ("are you really willing to take the two-suitcase challenge?"), and I had passed the test.
A bigger test awaited.
While we were in Israel, some terrible wildfires broke out in California, which, sadly, is not uncommon. But can you guess what areas were threatened by the fires? Kim's house, for one; and although we were most concerned about their safety, we were also aware of the fact that some of our most precious things were stored there. The storage unit, for another. And Jeff's parent's house in Big Bear, for another! The three locations that meant the most to us were in serious danger of going up in smoke, and we were halfway around the world, powerless to do anything about it or even grab a photo album before the fires got there.
"Really, God? I didn't do well enough on the last test, so You feel the need to test me again? Is that it?"
By His grace, the fires did not reach any of those locations, although they did come close. We breathed a huge sigh of relief, thanked God repeatedly for His protection, and (I admit) felt like surely now the test of not holding our things too tightly was behind us and we would not need to repeat that one.
Not so.
While we were still in Israel, we realized that when we returned to the States to live, we would be settling down in Virginia to be close to my parents and help them as they got older. By this time, Jeff's dad had died, and his mom had gone to live with his sister Kim, so she was taken care of. We had always said that we wanted to be available to help whichever set of parents needed us; and as it stood, my parents were the ones. However, we had a slight problem: our stuff was in California.
Jeff's mom blessed us tremendously by paying for a moving company to pack up our stuff and haul it to Virginia for us, so during one of our trips back to California, we had the movers come and get the items from our storage unit and from Kim's house. They said they would deliver it to Virginia by a certain date; and although we were back in Israel by that time, we were grateful that my parents were there to receive the items and coordinate things on that end.
To make a long story short, the moving company turned out to be run by a bunch of absolute crooks; and not only did they demand more money (much more money!), they also failed to show up with our stuff when they said they would. In essence, they were holding our possessions hostage in hopes of getting more money. And we were way over in Israel, feeling completely helpless to do anything about it.
"Really, Lord? You're testing my heart AGAIN over these items? Haven't I proven to you already that I've laid them down on the altar? Do you mean to tell me that you see in my heart that I'm still clinging to worthless things? If so, please change my heart, because after going through three 'tests' in regards to our possessions, I really would rather not go through another one!!" ;-)
In the end, Jeff's brother Mike got his lawyer involved, and then the moving company suddenly found our stuff and hastened to deliver it. Funny how that works. ;-) My parents did an admirable job of not giving in to intimidation on this end, and we--again--breathed a huge sigh of relief from our home in Israel and thanked God for His kindness and faithfulness.
I believe that, because of those three huge tests in only a few short years, my heart was forever changed in the way I viewed "stuff." My posture became less of a "I'm holding on with clenched fists because this stuff is important to me!" and more of a "let me hold these things in open hands, realizing that they will all pass away; and even while I have them, they rank second behind the much greater good which is people and relationships." I don't claim--and don't want to even imply--that I have never again struggled with placing too much value on earthly things. But my struggle became much less, and my desire to give away and get rid of excess stuff and quit collecting so much junk became greater.
There is one thing, however, that I still find myself holding onto. Still one thing I love to collect.
Information.
Jeff has even been known to call me an Information Packrat, and there's a lot of truth to that title. At least information doesn't take up as much room as mugs or dried roses or t-shirts! :)
One bit of information that I love to collect is quotes. There's just something about a short, pithy statement that really appeals to me. So, after that very long preamble, here then are a wide variety of quotes that I have collected over the past who-knows-how-many months (years?). Although I'd like to write an explanation of why each one appeals to me, I'm actually going to show great restraint and not do so! Shocking, isn't it? ;-)
The Quotes:
Treasuring Christ is more important than bearing children.
~ John Piper, via Christie's blog
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[In] the whole of world history there is always only one really significant hour--the present...
~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer, read on A Holy Experience
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Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle!
~ at the end of an email forwarded to me by my Aunt Elaine
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I think the man who above all others should be pitied is the man who has never learned how to amuse himself without mechanical assistance when he is alone...An uneducated man shrinks from quiet. An educated man longs for it.
- J. Gresham Machen, (1881-1937) in Education, Christianity, and the State, pages 125-126. Dr. Machen was Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary and founder of Westminster Theological Seminary and the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. - in an email from HEAV
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When the believer is weakest, he is strongest. The child who knows most its utter feebleness entrusts itself most completely into the mother’s arms. The young eagle that knows, by many a fall, its own inability to fly yields itself to be carried on the mother’s mighty wing. When it is weak, it is strong. Likewise, the believer, when he has found out, by repeated falls, his utter feebleness, clings with simplest faith to the arm of the Savior.
We are of this new generation that says we will not be robbed of these sweet treasures.
- Roxy's comment on this post on Marie's blog
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It has long been wisely said, there may always be more conditions for salvation than are found in any one Bible verse, but there can never be less. If God commands something once, it is part of the salvation process in response to God's grace.
- Tom Claibourne
- Tom Claibourne
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There's a surefire way to double your money; fold it in half and put it in your pocket.
- in Bits & Pieces, Vol. M, No. 1F
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- in Bits & Pieces, Vol. M, No. 1F
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I have been speaking a lot, for me anyway, which means I have been without that primary protector of American optimism and good cheer, which is staying home. Americans take refuge in their homes. It's how they protect themselves from their culture. It helps us maintain our optimism.
- Peggy Noonan, as quoted in Bringing Up Girls
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- Peggy Noonan, as quoted in Bringing Up Girls
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We have no government armed with power capable of contending with human passions unbridled by morality and religion. Avarice, ambition, revenge, or gallantry, would break the strongest cords of our Constitution as a whale goes through a net. Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.
- John Adams
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- John Adams
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One of the pitfalls people over forty fall into is thinking that it's too late. It's an old cliche but the simple fact is that it's rarely too late for anything.
Some years ago, a man over sixty was offered nearly $200,000 for a restaurant-motel-service station business that he'd spent his life building up. He turned the offer down because he loved the business and wasn't ready to retire yet.
Two years later, at age sixty-five, he was flat broke with no income to look forward to but a small Social Security check each month. The state had built a new highway bypassing his business and he lost it. Most people would have been crushed by such a blow, but he refused to give up.
Instead, he took stock. There was one thing he knew how to do--fry chicken. Maybe he could sell that knowledge to others. He kissed his wife good-bye and in a battered old car, with a pressure cooker and a can of specially prepared flour, set out to sell his idea to other restaurants. It was tough going and he often slept in the car because there wasn't enough money for a hotel room.
A few years later he had built a nationwide franchised restaurant chain called Kentucky Fried Chicken. The man was Colonel Sanders.
- from Bits & Pieces, Vol. M, No. 1F
Thank you so much for writing this post. I haven't read it all, but I plan to later when I have more time. I am trying to prune our possessions down to what we really need, use, and enjoy, so we will have more time and space to enjoy and use those things. I needed this encouragement and perspective. I'm so happy to hear from one on the other side of that lesson. Just being in your home is such a testimony to the freedom and peace that comes from having less "stuff" and no clutter.
ReplyDeleteKeep inspiring us!