Devotional Thoughts

Masterpiece on a Mission

5 Comments
Lil Jan, Normita, & Jasmine at Didasko
Lil Jan, Normita, & Jasmine at Didasko

One thing that derails some well-intentioned Bible study programs is a focus on quantity (reading the entire Bible in one year) rather than quality (doing a “deep dive” on a particular story or a specific verse). Both approaches are beneficial, but lately I seem to get more out of going in-depth on specific stories or verses.

One verse that has meant a lot to me this year is Ephesians 2:10, which reads “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” I’ve always liked this verse, but after studying it in more detail, it now amazes me. Meditating on it has changed my life. God’s word has a way of doing that. So let’s take a closer look at the words God, through Paul, had to say to the church at Ephesus, and to you and me…

We are God’s handiwork… Some translations use workmanship in place of handiwork, and the Greek word used here is poíēma which means “that which is made” or “workmanship”. The idea here is of an artisan designing and creating a product. It is from the Greek word poíēma that we get the English word poem. So when God created mankind…when God created you…he was a poet writing his very best poem, a sculptor creating his very best sculpture, and a painter painting his life’s masterpiece. Let that sink in for a minute. The creator of the universe…the all-knowing and all-powerful entity that created everything…was at the top of his game when he created you. Ever struggle with self-esteem? Remember that you are God’s handiwork. Feel like you are not up to the task before you? Remember that you are God’s masterpiece, made in his own image (Genesis 1:27). It’s no wonder that when God looked over all that he had made, including man, he knew that it was very good (Genesis 1:30). I hope that makes you hold your head a little higher and walk with a little more confidence in your step. You’re not patting yourself on the back; rather, you’re giving God all the credit for having written such a beautiful poem when he wrote you into existence.

Someone may ask, “But what about the sorry state of mankind? What about all the crime and corruption and hate in the world? What about all the people who live a life that sure doesn’t look like the masterpiece of an all-powerful Creator?” Those are fair questions. I guess my first thought is that some choose not to become Christians, but instead remain in their old selves. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” Those who are in Christ, then, seem to have ripped the packaging off the product and are daily being transformed into the full masterpiece that God intended. That’s simply not going to happen if you haven’t turned your life over to God. My other thought is that some masterpieces never reach their full potential. Someone can sell an old painting for $5 at a garage sale, not realizing that it’s a famous work of Picasso. Someone can allow an original Shakespearean manuscript to crumble away by not properly preserving it. There is no telling what masterpieces waste away through indifference and neglect in attics around the globe. That doesn’t change the fact that they started out as masterpieces with great potential for good. It’s also possible that, with a little effort, a neglected masterpiece could be cleaned and restored to its original, wonderful condition (in the spiritual sense, a process called repentance). Regardless of what condition you and I are in, at our core we are something amazing created by God.

Created in Christ Jesus to do good works… So why would God create his masterpiece known as mankind? Why do you and I exist? What’s our mission? The answer is simple…to do good works. Our purpose is not to accumulate money, although money can be used for good works. Our mission is not to attain high-ranking positions in a profession, although those positions might give us a larger platform from which to do good works. We are not here to be the most talented or best looking or to die with the most toys. Our mission, rather, is to do good works. As Christians, we don’t do this to get saved, to somehow earn our salvation. Rather, we do good works because we are saved. These works are the natural outpouring of someone who realizes what God has done for them. If you miss that point, you miss everything. As God’s handiwork, you and I were uniquely and wonderfully created to do good works, both big and small. Your good work might be helping a stranger fix a flat tire. Or perhaps it’s building a house for a poor family in Honduras. Or maybe God needs you to mentor a troubled teenager, or buy Christmas presents for a family that has none, or build a well or a clinic for a poor village in Haiti. Or perhaps your mission is to spend time with a loved one dying from cancer, and to encourage her worn-out, caregiving husband. No matter how big or small the work, it all matters. It all counts. And God gets all the glory, because he made you, his masterpiece, with the skills and abilities to accomplish these good works of service. So, we’ve established what you are…a masterpiece…and we’ve covered why you’re here…to do good works.

Which God prepared in advance for us to do… This is where things really get interesting. Because all those good works we just mentioned, along with all the ones not mentioned, were put there by God with our name on them. Let that sink in for a moment. Before you were even born, God had in mind some good works for you to do 10, 20, 30, or even 70 years later. There is something God wants me to do later today that I don’t even know about yet. But God has prepared it for me to do. When that moment comes, it won’t be by chance or luck. God is intentional, not random. I no longer believe random stuff happens. Even when bad things happen, based on our poor choices or natural disasters or whatever, God is right there preparing the opportunities for good works that will follow. The question, then, is whether we will seize the opportunity and accomplish the good work prepared by God in advance for us to do, or will pass on the opportunity with some lame excuse like we’re not good enough, or someone else will surely do it.

Several years ago some missionaries headed out into the Honduran countryside to bring a bus full of food to a women’s prison. Their driver ended up getting lost, and the team ended up on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. At the end of that dirt road in Nowhere, Honduras was an orphanage called Didasko that had literally just run out of food. In fact, the director had just said a prayer asking God to work a miracle as they had run out of food along with the money to buy more food. The bus pulled up, the missionaries distributed the food, God answered the prayer, and missionaries (including Lil Jan and myself) have been going there ever since. It’s a great story, but I don’t believe chance or luck or randomness were involved. Rather, God was very intentionally at work throughout. He might have even confused the bus driver just enough to get lost. I believe God saw to it that a bus full of food-carrying gringos (his masterpieces) would have an opportunity to fulfill their mission by doing a good work. And I bet he prepared another good work which involved the women at the prison being fed as well.

I suspect Paul’s words in Ephesians 2:10 were a great encouragement to the Christians at Ephesus. They lived in a big, bustling city full of people who frequently did wrong, to include worshiping at the Temple of Artemis, among other temples. The Christians there were known for their deeds, hard work, and perseverance, and yet apparently some of them had forsaken their first love (Revelation 2:2,4). Paul encourages them and challenges them by reminding them that they are God’s masterpieces, uniquely and wonderfully made. He tells them what their purpose is…to do good works. And he reminds them that God has already prepared the works for them to do.

To sum it all up, we are masterpieces on a mission. God is counting on us to do good works in order to fulfill that mission. Whatever the opportunity is that you will face later today or tomorrow, God put it there. And as his masterpiece, you are uniquely qualified to perform the good work and accomplish your mission.

Big Steve

Loading

Campground Reviews

Campground Review: Alafia River State Park, Lithia FL

1 Comment

We plan to do reviews on the various campgrounds and state/national parks where we stay. We hope these posts are as useful to future visitors to these locations as existing reviews have been to us. The reviews will also constitute our personal note taking of things to do or avoid doing when we visit again. We will update the ratings as appropriate as our travels give us a better basis for scoring and making comparisons.

IMG_1053

Caveat: The things that matter to us heavily influence our scores. So, for example, we won’t be deducting much if a campground lacks a playground or doesn’t allow pets since that currently doesn’t matter to us. (Mandy, our dog, is dead.) We will, however, deduct if the location lacked good hiking trails, as that is a priority.

IMG_1054

Our Categories:

Recreation/Amenities – hiking, gym, rec room, marina, pool, beach, etc.

Hookups & Connectivity – electric, water, sewer, Wi-Fi, cable, etc.

Local Vicinity Things to Do – cultural, historical, or otherwise fun things to do within 15 miles

Cleanliness – of bathrooms, showers, and grounds in general

Intangibles – friendliness, cost, wildlife, noise, things that really stand out, etc.

Overall Score – the average of the above 5 scores

IMG_1057

So then, here we go…

Campground: Alafia River State Park, Lithia FL

Dates: June 9-12, 2015

Campsite: 30

Overall Score: 3.8 (out of 5)

Summary: We had a great time at this state park and would definitely return. I had been here a couple years earlier to run a half-marathon with my friend, Clare DeBoef, and had high expectations. The campground definitely lived up to those expectations.

Recreation/Amenities: 4.5 – Fairly high score based on 20+ miles of outstanding hiking/biking/equestrian trails. In fact, the International Mountain Bike Association (IMBA, of which I am not a member) gave it an “epic” designation. To see a sampling of what makes it epic, check out this link… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbDVzLemjmQ

To see why I will not be riding a mountain bike at high speeds through this park, see this link… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MVVTEmFHI8

We did, however, hike two long hikes and enjoyed the views and exercise. There is also a nice fishing pond (with alligator), pavilions, and horse stables for boarding campers’ horses.

Hookups & Connectivity: 3.5 out of 5 – electric, water, and dump station (partial hookups). No Wi-Fi, cable TV, or sewer connection at site.

Local Vicinity Things to Do: 2 out of 5 – not much happening within 15 miles. Nearest restaurants are at Fishhawk. Awarding 2 points for the abundance of things to do within fairly easy driving distance (Tampa, Ybor City, Orlando, beaches, etc.)

Cleanliness: 4.5 out of 5

Intangibles: 4.5 out of 5 –

Pros – quiet, especially during the summer. Saw several deer every morning and evening throughout the campground. Good spacing between campsites. Friendly staff – a ranger spent several minutes explaining the various trails to me. Cool bat house by the lake. Our friends, John and Laurie, joined us for Chinese take-out and a final round of cards before leaving the state. $24.64/night.

Cons – several campsites were partially submerged following a heavy rain—we saw a couple of tent campers having to relocate to higher ground. Each campsite has a few trees providing shade, but only a few. Water had a bit of a rotten egg smell (hydrogen sulfide, maybe?)…I first noticed it while in the camp shower and thought, “Was that a frog?”

Big Steve

IMG_1051 IMG_1055

Loading

Uncategorized

Was that a Frog?

7 Comments

Family traditions are important. They provide continuity between generations. They involve things said and things done. They are part of the bond that holds families together.

We have a family tradition that goes back for generations (I’m told), but I first learned about it from my Uncle Phil while on family vacation as a young child. My uncle had eaten something that disagreed with him. I don’t recall if it was Mexican casserole or noodles or perhaps some combination of the two. I do recall that in the middle of watching a golf tournament on TV, he raised his leg and, well, pooted…tooted…broke wind…let one rip…made noise…whatever you want to call it. It happens. We all do it. And my uncle had just done it. Without hesitation, and without apology, he simply glanced up, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Was that a frog?” Despite only being five or six years old, I was pretty sure what had happened and that it wasn’t a frog. I knew what frogs sound like and what I had heard was similar and yet different…more like a frog that smoked cigarettes and had a very bad cold. But Uncle Phil was insistent, and the other males in the room all affirmed that the noise was indeed most likely attributable to an unseen amphibian in the room. So I went along with the deception, nodded that I too had heard the frog, and by doing so became a part of the family tradition.

Last night we parked our RV between two semi trucks in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Perry, Georgia. Full-timers do this on occasion (it’s called boondocking or living off the grid) on their way to the next destination as a way to save money on campsites and make the lifestyle more affordable. So we pulled in around 7pm, I went for a run, and then we played Cribbage and Sequence. As first-timers spending the night in a Wal-Mart parking lot, we were a little nervous about the truckers nearby, the safety of our tow vehicle, local gangs, and that sort of thing. But we’re on an adventure…and this is part of it.

About midnight we were just about asleep and I made a medium-sized noise. It happens. We all do it. Not only did Lil Jan not scold me, but she further secured her place in family tradition with these little four words: “Was that a frog?” I smiled and affirmed that it was indeed a frog and nothing to be alarmed about…aside from the fact that the frog needed to quit smoking.

Twice during the night something happened that you may not believe, but it is 100% true and one of the weirdest and funniest things that’s ever happened to us. At about 1:30 a.m., Lil Jan was awakened by something cold landing on her arm. She gasped, flicked her arm, and sat up but didn’t see anything. I, of course, didn’t notice her agitation and if I had, would have dismissed it as just a dream. But an hour later, I was awakened from a deep sleep and startled by what felt like a cold, wet paper towel hitting me in the right thigh. I rose up in bed, took a swing at my right thigh, and hollered, “What was that?” Equally startled, Lil Jan quickly sat up and turned on the light. We look around and discovered a two-inch long tree frog on the wall next to me…the kind with the sticky legs that can climb anywhere. We laughed for a solid five minutes and she told me the same thing had happened earlier to her. We wondered where the little fella had come from. Did we carry him in a storage compartment all the way from Florida? Was he a Perry, Georgia, frog who lived in the Wal-Mart parking lot and was just checking on us? Or is it possible that he was from a nearby swamp and, two hours earlier, had heard a noise that he thought was a mating cry from a fellow amphibian?

We may never know the answers to these questions. But it made for a rather exciting first night boondocking in a Wal-Mart parking lot. As I released the little fella with a toss out the RV door, I decided to name him Phil in honor of my uncle. Because maybe Phil had been right all along, and the noise that had been heard in our RV at midnight was indeed just a frog.

Big Steve

Loading

Uncategorized

The Next Rodeo

2 Comments

Janet HS

I’ve been called out by a few of my family and friends for letting Steve do all the blogging about our journey. So, here goes my first shot at putting some thoughts together about this whirlwind adventure we’re undertaking.

I am accustomed to packing up my belongings, purging unnecessary things I’ve accumulated, saying goodbye to friends, and leaving congregations where I’ve been involved. I guess you could say this isn’t my first rodeo! Each time I feel nostalgic and realize I will miss seeing those friends on a regular basis. But mostly, I’m excited about what lies ahead. Growing up as a “preacher’s kid”, we moved 5 times…3 of which were before I started grade school. The toughest of those was when we moved to Tennessee from Spartanburg, SC, after having lived there from 1st grade through the middle of my junior year. When I learned of the move, I was devastated! As a young teen, I went into full “Little Miss Drama” mode. I was certain life would never be the same and I would never make as good of friends in Tennessee.

Well, God in his infinite wisdom always knows best. I can see clearly now (the pain is gone) that the move to Tennessee changed the course of my life. Being a social butterfly, I quickly made new friends and packed a lot of great memories into that year and a half before leaving for college. Speaking of college, this is where moving to Tennessee had the most impact. Several of my new friends were interested in going to David Lipscomb College in Nashville, TN. This is not a school that was anywhere on my radar before moving to Tennessee. Yet I would not be sitting here today in this beautiful pavilion at the Alafia River State Park in Florida if God had not made me aware of David Lipscomb College. You see it was there (during the first hour on campus) that I met the love of my life, Steve Johnson. (He says I fell in love with him instantly, but that’s not quite how I remember it.) His adventurous spirit has taken me to places that I would have never dreamed of. As a military couple for 23 years, we had 8 moves around the globe, including a 2-year tour in Germany. If you had asked that young teen from Spartanburg what I would be doing 18 years later, I would’ve never guessed living in a foreign country! I thought I needed to stay right there in SC. In fact, the farthest west I had ever been was Memphis. There again, God always knows what’s best!

The military lifestyle brought so many wonderful experiences for us. We have friends scattered all over the country thanks to God and Uncle Sam. Leaving each assignment was always difficult and I always wondered how the next stop could possibly be better. But God graciously looked after us and made each assignment a blessing in its own way. People always ask, “How do you handle all the moving and leaving friends so easily?” My answer is, “I know that right around the corner is another blessing coming my way. “ Do I miss the friends I’ve made at each stop? You better believe it! Just about every day I think of someone I’ve known at some point in my life and wonder how he or she is doing and recall some of the fun times we’ve shared. But then I remind myself that if I had stayed in Spartanburg, SC, just think how many people I would’ve missed out on knowing.

Cabin Girls

As we start out on this RV adventure, we hope to stop by and see many of those friends that we’ve made and make some new friends along the way as well. We look forward to reconnecting and catching up. I hope that each of you that read this “rambling” will think back on our friendship and look on it as pleasantly as I have. Thank you all for being a part of who I am and for playing a role in my life’s adventure!

Lil Jan

Loading

Uncategorized

The Schnauzer with Nine Lives

1 Comment

For as long as I can remember, my dad has owned a schnauzer.  On the list of important things in life, dad would likely rank schnauzers just below my mom and just above his beloved Cleveland Browns.  Most evenings of my childhood, I could find dad sitting on the family room couch in his boxer shorts and white sleeveless t-shirt, with Air Force paperwork under his left arm, and the family schnauzer under the other.  On one occasion my good friend Jeff Battreall walked through the family room, caught a glimpse of my dad, and whispered, “Steve, your dad may want to throw a towel or something over those boxers.”  I explained that he was in his cave and the Air Force paperwork, boxer shorts, and Eddie (the schnauzer) were all cave fixtures.  Jeff understood, and made it a point to avoid glancing in the family room when dad was there.

TREND10

When my grandmother passed away a couple decades ago, my parents inherited her condo in Port Charlotte, FL (where I sit this evening with Lil Jan).  It’s an interesting little 16-condo community made up of 50% Canadian snowbirds who migrate here every winter.  The full-timers keep a close eye on things and strictly enforce the comprehensive HOA code…pool hours, acceptable mulch color, garden gnome height, etc.

Not long after my folks started visiting the condo on a regular basis, the HOA passed a new code forbidding dogs.  The new ordinance may or may not have been a result of my dad’s life-long tendency to let his schnauzers roam freely in order to poop at the time and place of their choosing.  Fortunately for my dad (and his schnauzer, Sissy) the code allowed existing dogs to remain, but forbade the acquiring of new dogs once the existing dogs had passed away.  The HOA reasoned that time was on their side, and Sissy the nuisance would eventually be gone.

This loophole turned out to be just what my schnauzer-loving dad needed.  You see Sissy passed away a few years later.  My dad was heart-broken, but did what he had always done before…acquired a new schnauzer and named her Scarlett.  Scarlett bore a striking resemblance to Sissy, particularly while wearing Sissy’s collar during her time at the condo.  A decade later Scarlett died, and dad replaced her with “Goonba”, his current schnauzer companion.  Once again, Goonba inherited Sissy’s collar, at least during her time at the condo.  While my dad may be violating both the letter and spirit of the law, I admire his boldness and creativity.

I suspect the HOA leadership will eventually do the math and begin to question how “Sissy” has survived more than two decades.  Until then, she’ll continue to live on borrowed time in the body of Goonba…roaming freely and relieving herself on gnomes during the day…and falling asleep under the right arm of her boxer-wearing owner at night.  – Big Steve

Loading

Uncategorized

Of Pools and Manatees

7 Comments

Manatee

Lil Jan and I have worked tirelessly for weeks to get our Fishhawk home ready for closing today.  We had a massive yard sale.  We moved all our remaining stuff out.  I did a final lawn mowing and hedge trimming.  We hired someone to do a final cleaning of the house and carpets.  We even had the driveway and sidewalks pressure washed.  We were exhausted, but the house and yard looked great, and we were ready for closing.  Or so we thought.

Last night I took a final load of stuff to my parents’ condo in Port Charlotte.  While there, I received a text from Karen, our awesome realtor.  She had just done a final walk-through of the house and said it looked great, but noticed some sand at the bottom of the pool.  She explained that the buyer was pretty picky, and may take issue with closing on a house that had a pool that wasn’t completely clean.  I reluctantly agreed, realizing she had our best interest at heart and not wanting any issues at closing.  I told her I would vacuum the pool upon returning that night.

I arrived back at the completely empty house at 10:15pm and walked back to the lanai.  I turned the pump on and prepared the hoses and such.  Our pool setup is such that it is best to do the vacuuming while in the pool, especially to get sand at the bottom.  But it occurred to me that the only clothes I had were the clothes I was wearing.

I surveyed the scene.  Full hedges blocked the view of our neighbors to the right.  Our neighbors to the left had a partial view but are typically in bed at that hour…or at least not in their back yard looking at my lanai.  What to do?  The pool had to be cleaned.  Closing was the next day.  With a determination and rational/logical assessment that only my fellow ENTJs could appreciate, I developed a plan which went something like this:

1) turn off all the lights

2) go to the edge of the pool and prepare to unclothe

3) realize you can’t see the sand with the pool light off; so get up and turn just the pool light on

4) go back to the edge of the pool and take a deep breath; play “I Lived” by One Republic on iPhone at low volume for inspiration

5) quickly and fully disrobe

6) roll over into the pool, sort of like a manatee being released into the wild after being treated at a marine life sanctuary

7) hit the water and do an immediate 180-degree turn to put the bare backside toward the pool light, keeping the more sensitive regions in the shadows where they belong

8) wonder just for a moment if this is some sort of sick practical joke by Karen the Realtor

9) vacuum as quickly and efficiently as possible while striding across the pool; try to stay bitter and resist any thoughts that “this is actually kind of refreshing”

10) step and roll out of pool (not unlike the “drop and roll” that is recommended when one is on fire)

11) dry off with shirt, then clothe self with remaining dry clothes; drive home to RV, arriving shirtless and proud

12) close on house, and walk away with fond memories of the final pool cleaning

Big Steve

 

Loading

Uncategorized

A Mother’s Love…and Legacy

4 Comments

I recently got to spend a wonderful Easter weekend with my dear mother, Peggy “Meme” Johnson, along with my dad and sisters.  Mom is in a tough battle with cancer, and is nearing the finish line in her life’s journey.  It was tough to see her frail and in some pain, but I’m so thankful that we had a chance to talk and share some heartfelt feelings with each other.

There’s something really special about a mother’s love.  She has always been my biggest fan and in her eyes I can do no wrong.  Everyone can use someone like that in life, and the role frequently falls on moms.  If my whole world were falling apart, I knew mom would have my back and everything would be alright.

MothersDay

I will always remember three things about my mom’s life.  First, mom always made Christmas time special.  The first 36 Christmases of my life were spent with my parents, usually at our home.  Mom instilled so many traditions:  ringing bells on Christmas morning and the pronouncement that “he (Santa) came!”; children lining up on the stairwell in order to rush downstairs together to see what Santa had brought; opening presents while drinking hot chocolate and listening to Christmas music; the discovery that Santa had left cookie crumbs and half a glass of milk (just like last year); and the big Christmas dinner with everyone at the table telling what they’re thankful for.  We always looked forward to the magic and wonder of Christmas and mom always delivered.  She gave us such wonderful memories and traditions to continue with our children and grand-children.

Second, mom has a thing for thrift stores, flea markets, yard sales, and bargains.  She is passionate about them.  I’ve seen her buy out entire yard sales and take all the boxes home to sort through them.  I remember going to a neighborhood yard sale with my mom when I was about 10 years old.  I came across a toy that I liked that cost a quarter, and mom asked the lady if she would take 20 cents.  The lady agreed and mom handed her the two dimes and then looked over at me to make sure I understood the significance of what had just occurred.  Through the years, I’ve received scores of “care packages” from mom with a variety of interesting things she had come across in her latest thrift store adventures.  Sometimes I’d think, “I don’t need all this stuff.”  But I suspect someday when mom is gone I will miss receiving those packages from her.

Finally, and most importantly, I’ll always remember how mom spent much of her life looking after disadvantaged people as a volunteer and later a social services coordinator.  During my middle school and high school years, I never knew what special needs person would be there when I came home from school.  Mom would take in these individuals for a night or a weekend to give their parents or caregivers a respite.  Raymond wore a helmet because he liked to hit his head against the wall.  Lurleen was in her late teens and once ripped her shirt off and ran around the yard in her bra to make a statement about something.  As my parents chased her, I shrugged and explained to my middle school friends that she was a friend of the family.  Gary was a sweet little baby who we took turns holding and loving on.  Marge was an older woman who loved to brush my mom’s hair and then have my mom brush her hair.   Tommy was about eight years old and decided one afternoon to take a permanent marker to the living room wall.  Mom loved and care for these special people and taught us to do the same.  She was the first solid example in my young life of a Christian following Jesus’ instructions to care for “the least of these”.  (Matthew 25:40)  I hope some day my sons and grandchildren will be able to say the same thing about me.

Before I left my parent’s home on Easter weekend, I hugged my mom and told her I loved her and how much I appreciated all that she had done for me through the years.  She expressed similar feelings to me.  I told her that if it so happened that I didn’t get a chance to see her again that I would look forward to seeing her in heaven.  She smiled and said “promise me you’ll be there too”, and I promised her I would.  As I drove away from their home that afternoon with tears flowing down my face, I was thankful that we had had this time together.  And I reminded myself to try to live a life that would make her proud, and to keep my promise.

Big Steve

Loading

Uncategorized

The Great Purge

1 Comment
Yeah, we got roosters
Yeah, we got roosters

The Great Purge is underway.  After 27 years of marriage and accumulating stuff, we’re unloading it.  Well, about 75% of it.  We’ve given (or will give) about half of our stuff to family, friends, and charity. Another 25% will stay with the house for use by the new owners.  We’ll put most of the remaining stuff (some antiques, family heirlooms, and “meaningful nicknacks”) at my parents’ condo in Port Charlotte.

We’re not against stuff.  We like stuff.  I’m sure someday we’ll settle down and accumulate more of it.  But for now, we’re just going to try to live for awhile without so much of it.  Here’s why…

1. A lot of our stuff is no longer necessary.  Books and old magazines that we’ll never read again.  Dozens of Air Force plaques and mementos that have served their purpose.  CDs we no longer listen to.  Games we no longer play.  Weights we no longer lift.  Clothes we no longer wear.  Kitchen roosters…dozens of them…that are lovely (really they are!)…but just seem to beget more roosters.  You get the idea.  If something hasn’t been used in a couple of years, it’s time to…let it go, let it go…

2. Stuff has a way of complicating our lives and draining our energy.  It has to be maintained, dusted, transported, or at least stored.  The more stuff we have, the more it ties us down.  Without it, we’ll be more mobile and we can focus our energies elsewhere.

3. I suppose we’re transitioning into the “empty nest” phase.  I remember earlier phases in our lives when we were growing a family, accumulating bigger and better things, and wanting bigger and better homes to store those things.  That process is now in reverse…and it feels awesome!  I recently had a conversation with a woman who is in the process of building her 5000+ square foot dream home.  I was happy for her because she was happy.  But I was so not envious of the required upkeep and maintenance of the house, yard, and all the stuff that would be in it.  We’re just in a different phase.

4. Seems to me that when people reach the end of their lives, and look back on their lives, it’s not the accumulated stuff that matters.  Instead, what’s remembered…what’s cherished…are the relationships and the memories.  So, it seems wise at this stage in our lives to shift more energy to building relationships and making memories.

5. Finally, it’s worth noting that when Jesus sent out The Twelve, he instructed them not to take any money or bags or extra clothes.  (Matthew 10:9-10)  He wanted them to rely on the generosity of the people in the towns they visited.  I think he also knew that material possessions…stuff…would drag them down and divert their attention from more important pursuits.

I wish I could say we’re as dedicated as those disciples…but we’re not.  Not even close.  We’re going to take some money with us.  And a couple of bags.  And enough hang up clothes to fill a 3′ wide RV wardrobe.  And several books we’ve been wanting to read.  And “the ashtray, this paddle game, and the remote control, and the lamp” (Navin Johnson, The Jerk, 1979).  But maybe by downsizing a bit, we’ll be able to focus more time and energy on the “stuff” God has planned for us.  At least that’s our theory.  And if it doesn’t work out, we can always settle down and buy more kitchen roosters.  – Big Steve

Loading