She and I were discussing my move to Clarkston and the potential dangers of living here. I had stated that I really don’t have fear here. I said that I have found that I trust in God’s sovereignty more in this place than I ever have in my life. Here response: “but you don’t really have anything of great value do you?”
I knew what she meant but it stopped me in my tracks and for a minute I did not know what to say. I think I brushed it off by saying that yes, I did get rid of a lot of things when I moved a few months ago. But my long ride home that afternoon gave me space to ponder and question why her words struck me the way that it did.
I started thinking through the things that I own. And I think it is kind of funny that I was justifying each item to myself in my head. No, I don’t have much jewelry, but the things I have belonged to my mother and grandmother which makes them more precious to me. I have a couple of antiques which are not in the best shape but I can tell you who each piece belonged to and why I wanted it in my home. And I have a few art pieces – not by famous artists, of course, but by people whom I have done life with and whose work moves me merely by essence of knowing what it meant to them. And as I began to justify, I began to realize why it struck me so hard.
I grew up in a missionary home. We were only “on the field” for about ten years and never left the country, but we didn’t have much. And even when we left mission work, my dad was a pastor who believed that this was His calling and that God would provide for the one He called. So he took churches that could not afford to support a pastor – let alone a pastor’s family. He makes more now than he ever has during his 67 years of ministry and his “take-home” pay each week is about what I spend for groceries and gas for my car combined.
During those years I learned that wearing dresses from the “missionary barrels” didn’t kill me. I learned that working in the garden meant we had plenty to eat throughout the winter. I learned that a pot roast that was meant to serve four could serve eight with more pleasure, calculated in the moments around the table. I knew the finer things as well. Instead of purchasing beautiful furniture at the store, my parents would go auctioning and find great buys. We learned to how to strip the paint, and cane the seats, and re-upholster the cushions, and stain the wood so that a $10 chair could become a thing of beauty in our home. I was taught to live within my means and not to envy the “Jones” family next door. And as a teenager I learned what it meant to lose it all when a house fire took our fourteen room farmhouse and turned everything we owned into soot and ash.
I am in a season of life where I am questioning what God has in store for me. He has changed my mind and my heart so much that there are days when I can hardly keep pace. I know that He is taking me to a deeper level of trust. I look at the world around me with different eyes. When I try to place value on the things around me, I find that it is pretty easy to let go of the tangible these days. In fact. I have a shed full of stuff that I have not touched since I moved to Clarkston in May. I will not move it again. God is simplifying my life for the days ahead. I don’t fully know where He is taking me, but I need to pack light. He is preparing me for a new thing. And part of my training is learning what is “valuable”.
If I could have had time to think, this is what I would have shared with my friend about value.
I may not have anything in my home that you would want in yours. If I went and pawned it all, I wouldn’t be able to live for six months on the proceeds. Most of the things I own, I treasure… my comfortable bed, my out-of-tune piano, my photo albums full of memories, my books – not many – just the ones I refer back to for my soul, and my comfortable shoes. But if I had to choose between these things and being with the people God has placed in my life, I would choose the people any day.
Yes, this is what I value. I value the good that I see in people – even the ones I am supposed to fear. I value the glimpses of what I think God sees in them. I get to look into the eyes of young men and women who will change this world if they get ahold of God 100%. I get to remind them who they are in Christ. I get to walk beside them. I get to hear their hearts. And I get to encourage them onward toward all that God has for them. You are right. I don’t have anything of value to give them – save Christ. There is nothing I have that is worth more than Him. And there is nothing they can take from me – save my life. And that does not belong to me anymore anyway.