As our regular readers know for the past 33 months, Norma Jean and I have been homeless. Sorta.
When we decided to step back from working full time with a local church and travel, engaging in an itinerant ministry, we gave up a house we called home, got rid of a lot of stuff, packed up what we wanted to keep, and put it in a storage unit in Florida.
Now that we’ve bought a home in Citrus County near Crystal River, we’re unpacking our stuff. It seems that we kept more than we thought. For instance, I gave away lots of books before we moved, but somehow I’ve managed to have 50 boxes left from my library. Then, there are the sets of china, Norma Jean has collected through the years.
It’s been like Christmas day around our house, as we open box after box and discover stuff we’d forgotten about. Many of the items we’re unwrapping evoke a surprised look. A smile. A chuckle. Or a story.
Suddenly it dawned on me that it’s not really about the stuff itself. We keep it because of the memories it represents. The emotional attachment. And the relationships we’ve formed over the years.
A clock we gave my parents on their 25th wedding anniversary. China that belonged to Norma’s mother. Silver trays that were wedding presents. Various going away gifts given us by brethren when we’ve moved from one congregation to another. A cookie jar that belonged to my Mom that I recall “stealing” cookies from (and getting caught) when I was a kid. Then there are the knick-knacks, souvenirs, and various plaques that we’ve bought on trips or have been given by friends. They wouldn’t bring a dollar at a garage sale but have significance to us.
In addition, there are so many framed pictures and albums from family get-togethers, vacations, anniversaries, birthdays, and special occasions. Pictures or paintings that were gifts from family or friends. Some go back to our great-grandparents. Then there are pictures of preachers who’ve befriended and mentored me through the years.
All of this stuff means something because it represents a special person in our lives. It evokes a fond memory. A pleasant time. A lifelong relationship. And even a spiritual bond.
The stuff is difficult to part with because through it we feel a connection with people we love. With memories we hold dear. And with departed family, friends, and brethren whose relationships we’ve cherished, and long to see again.
I’m reminded of Jesus’ warning in Luke 12:15. “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions {or stuff}.”
Whether expensive collections, valuable treasures, or just inexpensive stuff, life is more than what we have. It’s who we are. What we’ve become. How we’re living. And the people in our lives who’ve made a difference. Plus the people we’re influencing for good.
In his fine book, It’s All About the People, my friend, and preaching colleague, Dee Bowman wrote, “Life is about little people. It’s not about the rich and famous, it’s about simple folks…who haven’t made a big splash in life, nor said anything special, or done anything worthy of public praise or honor.”
It’s not about the stuff. It’s the people in our daily lives. Husbands and wives. Sons and daughters. Mothers and fathers. Brothers and sisters. Aunts and uncles. And a host of brothers and sisters in Christ. These people and the fond memories of times we’ve spent together are who and what leaves a lasting, indelible impression in our hearts.
The wise man reminds us of this important truth. “The memory of the righteous is a blessing” (Prov. 10:7).
It’s not about the stuff. It’s about the people. The memories. The relationships. And the shared experiences.
Ultimately, of course, the stuff will all be burned up. Then God will judge us by the stuff within us. Our attitude. Actions. And priorities in life. (2 Cor 5:10).
Then we will know for sure that it’s not about this world’s stuff.
–Ken Weliever, The Preacherman