Author | Jamie
Okay, folks, let’s get real… A grand adventure? Yes. For sure. But when does it start?
Do you see this picture? This is a picture of all the bags in my front hallway after my husband organized them. Every room in my house looked like this, but a little worse. The clutter in my house mirrored the clutter in my head. How do you take the accumulated stuff of 16 years of marriage and 6 people from a 2600 square foot house (not to mention attic, garage and shed) into the space of a 10 foot trailer (that we don’t have yet) when you don’t know where you’re going or when you’ll be back? Where do you even start?
We started by getting rid of the stuff that was not too hard to get rid of. (Well, too be honest, some of us started with tears, but that’s not the subject of this post.) Actually, we started by piling up the stuff that we could part with fairly easily. How would we go about getting rid of it? Should we have a garage sale? Should we donate it? What about family treasures? What about my child who needs me to go through every item with him? What if I give stuff away that I end up needing later? What if I don’t have a garage sale and that lack of funds causes my family to starve a month sooner?
My mind was so busy I could find no rest. Where is the adventure in this? Where is God’s provision? How do I move forward through my endless to-do list while resting in Jesus?
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies (Psalm 23:5a)
This verse is an enigma to me. As my enemies (or my piles of stuff) stare over my shoulder, Jesus sets a grand feast. Fantastic food, fancy dishes and laughter. Lots of laughter. How can this be? There is so much to do, I can hardly find time to eat at all, much less recline at a table and laugh.
Maybe… just maybe, the task before me is not as insurmountable as it seems. My big God looks at my little piles, and he’s not worried. He knows what needs to be done and how much time there is to do it. He does not require my frantic pace or my perfect problem solving skills to get through it all. I think he’s even allowed time in this crazy schedule for nothing days. Days where we get nothing done. Sometimes I spend the nothing days crying. And that’s okay. My Father knows that there is stuff to cry about in this leaving. He sits with me in my tears and comforts me. It’s important not to rush through the crying days.
I’m hopeful, though, that I will learn through this process to spend some of the nothing days feasting. Feasting and laughing. Even in the presence of my enemies. Wouldn’t that be something?