Stuff.
If you’re like me, you have
a lot of it.
It seems as if every nook
and cranny is an invitation for me to stow papers and trinkets; even clothes sometimes.
When those spaces get too full, I often find myself browsing a thrift store
looking for a piece of furniture to store or display the stuff I have.
This past winter when I was
having a moment, one of those when nothing I put on worked, I caught myself standing in the middle of a giant pile of
clothes. It looked as if my closest had vomited every article of clothing I
owned onto my bedroom floor.
That is when it hit me… No,
really, the shelf that held my dress shirts broke and hit me in the head…
I had too many clothes.
For Lent, I decided to go
through my closest and dresser and get rid of one article of clothing per day.
I wanted to simplify my life.
So I had a hard talk with each
item.
From my very first bow tie
to the sweatshirt I had to have in college, each one went through the
examination. I remembered when and where I bought the item or who gave it to
me. Some items I needed to get rid of simply because, well, the hole under the
armpit was larger than the neckline.
Ultimately, I asked the same
two questions, “Do I really need this? Do I still have a use for it?”
Fifty articles of clothing
were eventually purged from my closest and donated to the Clothing Closet that our church is hosting this weekend.
If I am honest with you,
this was kind of a difficult task. Many of the dress shirts brought back
memories. Many of my sweatshirts flooded my mind with memories of those long
weekend getaways with friends. That holy pair of jeans (that ended up in the
garbage and not at the Clothing Closet)
reminded me of one of the best days of fishing I ever had.
But here is the deal,
friends, the impulse to save, to make do, to find a use for things, can get out
of hand. And the irony of saving things is that we accumulate so much stuff
that we forget what’s there and end up buying duplicates.
Like three Chicago Cubs
sweatshirts; five fleece button down up shirts; thirteen pairs of jeans
(I am not proud of this); and 30+ neckties. I am still working on letting go of
my many pairs of shoes. Especially those baseball shoes I have had for ten
years…and I’ve only worn a dozen times…but one day I will coach again…and one
day I might just need them…you know, to preach in?!?!
What sparked this issue for
me is the realization of how much stuff I have and how much I depend on that
stuff. I have a lot of books. While I read most of them, there is also a part
of me that uses these books to impress people who see them.
Here’s the deal, our
possessions may be precious to us; they may even have a lot of power over us.
And they may even have a lot of meaning (like that black flannel shirt I have
that once belonged to my late uncle. Though it is two sizes too big, I will
NEVER get rid of it…).
But my favorite Cubs coffee
mug, all those books, all those bow ties, all those (insert those items you
have a tendency to collect) aren’t the ruach
of God, the breath of God.
God gifted us with all we
need and then asked us to take care of it. Part of this call means to be good stewards: use only what we need and share because with God, there is enough for everyone.
Our stuff is meant to bring us joy and life.
If it doesn’t, if it gets
in the way, perhaps it is time to share it with someone else.
There is freedom in letting
go.
Or as Quaker theologian
Richard Foster has boldly said, “The goal of work is not to gain wealth and
possessions, but to serve the common good and bring glory to God.”
To bring glory to God means
to make God’s presence known.
Stuff can get in the way of
this.
But stuff can also add to
it.
I guess the choice is ours!
