I’ve thought about possessions a lot this past year. I’ve said on more than one occasion that I don’t want to be attached to the things I own. I want to be able to give any of them up at the drop of a hat. (In light of this past Saturday, I find that quite amusing.) It reminds me of being prayer partners with Angie when we were camp counselors together. As we were sharing prayer requests, we were talking about how we “shouldn’t pray for patience because we would get it” (in ways we didn’t want.) The rebel in me came out (which is not unusual – still) and I told her, okay…. go ahead… pray for patience for me. 🙂
I don’t remember any drastic effects of the prayers… and I didn’t pray this year for a willingness to give up my stuff, but….. I guess I got my wish.
The hat dropped, and it wasn’t my hand that pulled it off my head.
I do have a few things that are extremely precious to me. The bulkiest one would be the cedar chest my dad made as a wedding gift. It contains precious bundle #2 – the letters that he’s written me over the years. And in a musty smelling ammo box under our bed is #3 – the letters that Roger and I wrote each other during our North Carolina/Oklahoma “dating” relationship. And pictures…. for the past 9 and a half years, I’ve had the opportunity of photographing the 4 most beautiful and amazing kids ever. 🙂 Not that I’ve done justice to them with our photo albums. Most of those photos (almost all of Avery’s life) sits in the uncertain purgatory of my Dell Inspiron laptop. (Which I haven’t touched since Roger looked at me and said, “I think it might be gone.” which I responded to with, “If it is, I’m going to cry.” I didn’t quite believe myself. And I didn’t cry until after I pushed the power button on my piano and nothing happened. But I guess I got it all out of my system. And woke up the next morning feeling better than I have in weeks.)
So I’ve been thinking lots more about possessions.
I realized the other day that I’m not the kind of Christian who says, “There’s no such thing as coincidence.” or “Everything happens for a reason.” Things happen. Just because. Because God set this cycle of life in motion and gave us brains to think and create, and the freedom of choice and everything that goes along with that. And just because he has the power over those thoughts and creations and choices (and accidents) doesn’t mean he’s going to use it in every circumstance. And I really can’t finish that thought without sounding like a heretic (I’m not – but I’ve been reading Virginia Woolf, and I can feel her in my sentence structure tonight, weird, strange, odd.)
I am the kind of Christian who believes that we can learn a lesson from anything we choose.
My friends and I have been studying the book of James on Wednesday evenings. When we were talking about rejoicing in the midst of trials, I looked over my sheltered, happy life and realized that I don’t know the meaning of trials yet.
I’m still not sure I do.
I’d been considering packing away the TV for a few months, just to see 1- if we could do it, and 2- what kind of differences it would make in our family life. I had kind of decided against it just because we don’t have a lot of extra storage space in our basement. (But there’s plenty of room in the garbage dumpster!)
Judah asked me Sunday when we’re going to get a new TV, and I told him we might wait until the end of the summer, and explained why I’d like to. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the prospect. But the child’s mind works in (innocently – mostly) devious ways. He said, “If we can do it, can we…… (trying to come up with a really great reward for the sacrifice)…. go swimming at the Pavilion?” (the indoor pool in Hazard) Ha! Sure – why not? We’d probably take them swimming anyway, TV or no TV.
Oh, enough of that! I really just meant to explain what actually happened to the power line – I left that part out on Sunday. There was a tree branch that had fallen on the line, and had been sitting there for awhile, tugging it down… or stretching it out – thus the creation of the power surge.