Monday, July 1, 2013

Oppressive Opulence

Hello, blog.  It's nice to see you again. 
You need a little updating, considering we've had a fourth set of feet in the family for only seven months.
And there are only three sets of feet in the header currently.
But no big deal.
He's a second child anyway, right?  I should be used to that, being a second child myself.

Our house is on the market now.
And a lump is in my throat.
And a burden is in my heart.
And, oddly enough, the burden is not anxiety or uncertainty.
It's sort of a heartbroken conviction, a passion, tinged with guilt and sorrow.
A conviction that, had I been 10 years younger, I might have confused with a "call to Missions" (with a capital M), but now I'm interpreting it as a call to effect a change.

We've put so much emphasis lately onto holding loosely onto our things.  And sometimes I feel like we've accomplished that to some extent.
And then I remember that we have put 90% of our things in storage.
And seem to be doing just fine without them. 
Only mildly inconvenienced every once in awhile.
But I know that once I open that storage unit back up, I'll see those things.
Those Idols. 
Those leaching possessions that I "need to have" or that "make me happy."
Because I really do need a full set of pots and pans, right?
And a set of "company dishes"?
And they will infiltrate my life and take up residence in my heart again.

And I contemplate the families in my son's birth village.  Those families who don't have what I consider "basic necessities" but who manage just fine.
Those families who are more than just mildly inconvenienced, but who are content and joy-filled and relational.
Here I sit in my oppressive opulence, with my overindulgent, selfish heart.
And I don't know what to do other than confess it. 
And do my best to effect a change in my own heart and my own life.
With the help of one who has broken my heart for what breaks His. 

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