The Stuff of Life: 3 things + a question

We get wrapped up in a lot of things. That's what I'm thinking this week. Here are 3 observations and a question for you.

1. It's only stuff.

"Where your treasure is, your heart will be also," Jesus said. That's so true. Stuff is only ... well, stuff.

I tend to surround myself with things that are functional as well as beautiful. Since we started out marriage without much money, I started swapping things around. As a young bride living in my in-laws' former house, I traded the rooms for living and dining. That worked best for us but was probably a surprise when W's parents came to visit their house. Even back then,  we spent more time sitting with people at the dinner table than relaxing and looking out the window. Plus, we suddenly had a fireplace in the dining room - how cool is that? and the living room was just off the sliding doors to the back deck rather than a squeeze behind the dining room furniture.

As we recover from these tropical fevers (and we're pretty-much back to usual), the pressure to move things around mounts in my head. For a few days, I think about our main space. If I move too soon, the creative tension doesn't release in the same way. One night I drag the bench from the living room into the dining area.

Without the bench, the whole room feels bigger. Good enough for now. Sometimes it's enough to move something away.

The space contains items gathered over the years. Not one of them is valuable in itself.

• art from a gallery close-out
• weird pink tray-tables (IKEA, 80% off)
• vases discarded by others
• a white metal sheet found at the back of a woodshed
• a kilim rug handwoven in northern Afghanistan by Turkmans, first unrolled for us during a break at a conference on another island
• pillows wrapped in fabric from a store crammed to the ceiling with color
• a table left behind by previous tenants, covered with a "Made in China" embroidered tablecloth that I bought in Germany as a teen 

... each piece reminds me of something or someone, from my own first travels up to our student friends from the -stans (former Russian satellite countries). Such memories of God's faithfulness.

Stuff in itself isn't life-giving. You have to clean and maintain it. It's sure not worth stressing over when a helper drops a favorite ornament or smashes a few dishes.

What I treasure when I see things is the feeling of people and places: the smile my mom's tea set brings versus the sigh over the quilt that took me 15 years to finish. Our life has been so rich and full already. Things remind me of God's goodness and faithfulness. (Of course, they're also tools for hospitality and blessing others, right?)

2. Things thrive when conditions are right.

That's true for people as well as nature. God clothes the flowers more exquisitely than the cloth used for a king's robe, said Jesus. Apparently God's showing off with lavishness this month. The neighbor's 9' (3 meter tall) hedge is glowing with bundles of petals.

The orchids Dr Ingrid brought over are gorgeous. I stop to smell the Vandas most mornings and evenings.

Each orchid is a living sculpture.

The little succulents we popped into sand-filled trays last year have exploded. 

When you look closely, each ruffled and rounded edge has its own splendor.

We're enjoying the vegetables from the aquaponics farm. Even the handwriting on the bill is pretty. I like examining at how people have been taught to write letters and numbers. In Indonesia's fonts, you read the colonial heritage of Dutch schools.

3. When it's over, let it go. 

Things don't stay in place, whether they get damaged by time or just lose their usefulness. And what you have is meaningless if you don't share it with others. 

This sign at a restaurant reminded me of community values around us: other people are the reason we have to be careful. Life is not all about you or me.

W's looking for something specific and hungry for the 55c hot dogs at IKEA. We make a trip this week to an almost-empty warehouse. I pick up a black frame for the tulip painting by Ruth's dad. Can't wait to put it on the office shelf. It reminds me to pray for all the dear friends who pass through our lives, year by year.

This week, the ceiling of the meeting hall tumbles down. No one is in the building at the time, thank God. The termites have slowly eaten their way through the rafters, though the surface plaster which looked perfectly fine. 

Wednesday morning, I see a dark puddle on our kitchen counter. Oh oh, what is that? It's brown and sticky: organic cane syrup has broken its glass bottle and leached from the upper cabinets all the way down the shelves. Either someone cracked the bottle or there was a flaw in the glass. Doesn't matter how it happens. It's a mess.

That's the way it goes. Stuff doesn't last. We buy groceries and consume them. Our clothing tears and we wear out our shoes. We outlive our pets and miss them when they're gone. It's a mark of being mortal.

Often, we may find ourselves holding onto things that have no value to us. If we're no longer enjoying an item, it may be worth taking a picture to capture it. As long as we send it onward to someone who will appreciate it. 

Downsize. Declutter. Keep what's working and discard the rest? It's an ongoing process as life changes.

This week's question: Are you holding onto relationships or things that you should - or could - let go? If so, how is that serving you?

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*As for mortals, their days are like grass; they flourish like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone. But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting. Psalm 103: 1-17

Through Jesus Christ we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. Romans 5:2

Moravian Prayer: Loving God, happy are we who know your steadfast love and redeeming grace, and blessed are we when we share your glory with others. Nurture our growth, that we may radiate your love to the world. Amen.