Carbuncles

I grew up in this home, a home whose walls absorbed both laughter and tears. I have been here for periods of time with my husband and children and again, the home echoed with laughter and tears. Memories.

Memories which kind of sanctify a place, making it holy to those who have loved here.

Going through books. Some inscribed on the fly leaf with words of love and encouragement, from my dad, to my dad, from or to my mom. From or to my sister. Suddenly when I see the familiar writing the book becomes special and it would seem a sacrilege to discard it, a turning away from a loved one somehow.

Downsizing is painful. Painful but liberating. As we walk towards the day the movers will come in, I feel almost numb, making decisions of what to keep, what to take, what to drop. I am dropping much along the way but are they really bits of me, of my family, of an irrecoverable past? Or are they impeding progress? Are they giant carbuncles which prevent me from becoming who I was really created to be?

Things hold us back, and yet we seem to be a culture of accumulation, gathering more and more things around us. Associations of loved ones with things then become a hindrance to our stepping forward in freedom.

Living in Jesus is living in freedom. His plans for us don't depend on keeping the right things, of clinging on to memories. They depend on us clinging on to him. In Christ alone our hope is found.

I will allow him today to knock off the carbuncles large and small which may be keeping me from being all I can be in him. It is a painful process, but the sun is up, it's a new day, and this is the day that The Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.