Like trying to shove an elephant into a phone booth. That’s how I described our recent moving experience.
We sold our house a couple of months ago, which seemed pretty doggone miraculous in these dicey economic times. It was rather exciting because it put us one giant step closer to our dream of building a house on some land we bought a year ago.
However, the reality of packing up and moving decades of accumulated stuff was a little less than exciting. To-the-bone exhausting might be a more apt description.
We needed in-between housing while we build a house on our “farm” and so we rented an apartment.
(By the way, “farm” is in quotation marks above because I hesitate to toss that term around too casually. Fact is, I’m not sure if I’m going to be very good at this farming gig. Boys I can raise; livestock, I’m not so sure about. As far as my horticultural/agricultural skills go, think “plant hospice.”)
Lord willing, someday before Jesus really DOES come back, we will live on our “farm,” but for now we have become apartment dwellers. It’s a nice enough place, but not exactly spacious for a couple of 50-somethings used to lots of elbow room.
I was very thankful for everyone who helped us on moving day, but it was a bit disheartening to hear a few of them repeatedly mumble, “You’re never gonna fit all this stuff in here.”
Yeah, well, I was gonna try.
And try I did. As the guys carried our worldly goods in, I unpacked, squeezed and shoved things into every available nook and cranny. And sometimes I repacked and sent stuff back out the door to go to our rented storage unit or to charity.
The kitchen was a special challenge, as it was obviously designed for bachelors who don’t know a frying pan from a fondue pot, or for wee folk with dishes and cookware from the “Barbie’s Dream House” collection.
A bedroom closet now serves as my pantry. C’mon—am I the only one who likes to keep more than one can of cream of mushroom soup on hand, just in case?
With some concentrated, frantic engineering, we got the elephant in the phone booth. Yes, we did. And now I’m on a shopping “fast.” If we won’t use it or eat it in a couple of weeks, it’s not coming into this phone booth because we’re bursting at the seams.
At this point, everything that comes in means something else probably must go out.
Now that I think about it, that word picture applies to more than just the physical realm. It’s true spiritually as well.
In a positive sense, when we consistently fill our minds and hearts with God’s truth by reading and absorbing what He has said to us in the Bible, lies are forced out the door. When we embrace His love, peace, joy and hope, we gradually find there’s no room for hate, bitterness, fear, depression and despair.
Of course, it works both ways. The more bad stuff we allow in, the more good stuff gets crowded out.
Moving out of our house and into this apartment has reminded me that most of us tend to eventually fill up whatever space is available to us. In closets and rooms, yes; but more importantly, in our minds and hearts.
Every day we bring in truth…or lies. Trash…or treasure. Life…or death.
The choice is ours.
“Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life.” (Proverbs 4:23)
“The good man brings out of his good treasure what is good; and the evil man brings out of his evil treasure what is evil.” (Matthew 12:35)