Too many tunics

I am thinking about journeys.  I see the pile of boxes in the hall, one of the many that emerged from yesterday’s de-cluttering, and I wonder how we’ll ever transition to a smaller house, when that day comes.

Which reminds me of the first (and only) time I went backpacking years ago and the painful lesson it taught me about carrying too many things.  A jar of peanut butter?  What was I thinking?

Which turns my thoughts to Jesus’ instructions to his disciples as he sent them out in Luke 9:3: “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money; and do not have two tunics.”  Simplicity is still an imperative for a faith journey.  U-Hauls are impractical in our walk with Jesus.

As I am considering what it means to observe – to have eyes that see – I feel like a blind man when it comes to the stuff in my life.  On my studio shelves are so many objects connected to memories.  Holding onto them keeps the memories alive.  That is a good thing – until I am buried under the accumulative weight of it all.

Faith was at the heart of Jesus’ instructions above: God supplies.   The same principle applies to our letting go.  As does this truth: God remembers. 

And because He does, nothing of true value can ever be lost.

Lord, you walked on this earth with little to call your own.  Open my eyes to the unnecessary things I carry with me through this journey with you.  Help me to live unencumbered so that I may follow wherever you lead.