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Tuesday, 9 April 2019

Stuff


Stuff.
Our house heaves with stuff. Things that remind me of moments, magical and poignant. Things that once were useful, and might one day be useful again. Things that have been left behind as technology sweeps on.
Audio tapes: a drawerful. Video tapes: thought I’d cleared away, only to discover more in the attic. Vinyl records we still play. I had a great time organising them as I cleaned the sitting room, reminding myself of singers and albums I used to listen to by the hour, now mostly gathering dust.
Things are a blessing. They can also be a time-waster, as we try to make sense of what’s worth keeping, what isn’t. I can’t say that I’m persuaded that it’s effective to clasp something to my chest and decide whether or  not it brings me joy. I can’t say that furniture polish will ever satisfy that criteria.
Jesus counselled his friends to step out without a purse or a change of clothes. He advised us not to worry about food or clothes. He told a story about a man who built a barn to hold all of his stuff, only to lose his life that night.
May I prayerfully review my stuff, and make wise decisions.

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