Last spring I began the process of packing up my classroom and apartment as I moved one step closer to leaving for France. I actually started making my packing list for France months earlier, so as I made decisions about what would stay and what would go, I kept repeating to myself: It’s just stuff. If I don’t need it, if I can’t use it, I’m not going to keep it.
The problem is that I’m so sentimental. Everything I see, touch, and smell reminds me of a person or an experience, and that makes it hard for me to let go of anything. But it’s just stuff. I don’t need the objects to remind me of those people and places. So with the exception of a few items (childhood memories in a trunk; books on a shelf; one file of science supplies—just in case) I took pictures of the things I worried I might forget and boxed all of it up.
Everything I needed for now and for France came with me to my parents’ house. Everything else went into storage to sell. [Yes, everything, dad…except the bed. ;-)]
And now it’s time! Our garage sale is this Saturday, so for the past couple of weeks I’ve been reopening the boxes I packed a few months ago and carefully trying to organize and display it in the most appealing way possible. And still, I have to keep reminding myself, it’s just stuff.
But it’s cool stuff. It’s the dishes that I carefully picked out before I moved out on my own the first time. It’s posters and teaching manipulatives I made and used at the best job ever with the best students and coworkers ever. It’s antique dollhouse furniture that I played with when I was little and thought I might give my own daughter someday.
But it’s just stuff. And if I can’t use it, I might as well give it to someone who can. They can use it, and they can make new memories with it. That’s what stuff is for. To be used.
Having more stuff doesn’t make you a better person or give you a better life. Matthew 6:19-21 says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
I want my heart to be where God has called me to be—sharing His love and hope with others who need to hear it. And I want to be free to go wherever He wants me to go and do whatever He wants me to do, without my stuff getting in the way. So I’ve already decided when I leave for France, I’m only taking 2 suitcases with me…good thing I’ve already made my packing list.
I want my breakfast served at eight with ham and eggs upon the plate
A well-broiled steak I’ll eat at one and dine again when day is done.
I want an ultramodern home and in each room a telephone;
Soft carpets, too, upon the floors and pretty drapes to grace the doors.
A cozy place of lovely things, like easy chairs with inner springs,
And then, I’ll get a nice T.V.--of course, I’m careful what I see.
I want my wardrobe, too, to be of neatest, finest quality,
With latest style in suit and vest; why should not Christians have the best?
But then the Master I can hear in no uncertain voice, so clear:
“I bid you come and follow Me, the lowly Man of Galilee.”
“Birds of the air have made their nest and foxes in their holes find rest,
But I can offer you no bed; no place have I to lay my head.”
In shame I hung my head and cried; how could I spurn the Crucified?
Could I forget the way He went, the sleepless nights in prayer He spent?
For forty days without a bite, alone He fasted day and night;
Despised, rejected – on He went, and did not stop till veil He rent!
A man of sorrows and of grief, no earthly friend to bring relief;
“Smitten of God,” the prophet said--mocked, beaten, bruised, His blood ran red.
If He be God, and died for me, no sacrifice too great can be
For me; a mortal man, to make; I’ll do it all for Jesus’ sake.
Yes, I will tread the path He trod, no other way will please my God,
So, henceforth, this my choice shall be, my choice for all eternity.
-William “Smiling Bill” McChesney (1936-1964), missionary to Congo
oh man Emily, thank you for sharing this poem. It made me weep! What a precious reminder.
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ReplyDeleteI'm quite the sentimentalist, too, so I know what you mean. It's really going to be hard for me. Great reminder that it IS just stuff.
ReplyDeleteIt's also a good idea that you're doing this now and have a list of what you're taking to France. For a while now when thinking about something I want or need here, I ask myself, "Can I use it in France and is it worth taking with me?" Especially, "Will I even have room to take it???"
And think of the new memories God will give us when He blesses us with new stuff - but with a French flair! :)