My wife couldn’t sleep last night. We’ve been going through our old stuff, tossing things, selling things, even having a flat-out yard sale, and we still have a few things to get rid of. But it wasn’t so much fatigue that kept her up.
“It’s like we’re getting rid of our life. There’s nothing left that’s really us.”
Ouch, but in a way, it’s true. In a previous post, I mentioned that we’re moving from the St. Louis area to Denver. Unfortunately, moving vans are incredibly expensive and Denver apartments aren’t very cheap. So we have to take whatever will squeeze into or onto our ’05 Honda Odyssey. Everything else goes.
It’s Just Stuff…Right?
I hate materialism, most of us do. But it’s amazing much you can cling to your stuff. Not just in a Hoarders I-might-need-this-someday-I-don’t-know-why-but-I-know-I-will-as-soon-as-I-get-rid-of-it way, but our stuff can hold some serious memories.
Goodbye, old couch of a million games. You used to live in my parents’ basement where we’d crank up the PS2 and save the world. Then I moved out and you came with me into the XBox 360 era. You comforted me through four different surgeries. I saw life-changing movies and read my Bible on you. Alas, there is no room anymore for our adventures.
Speaking of movies, I finally have to admit that I have far more than I actually watch, so goodbye to about 50-60% of you. I’ve enjoyed our time, but I don’t have enough of it. Same goes for you, books. There are not enough hours in the day to read all of you, so I have to get selective. The rest of you go on the Kindle or out the door.
The video games can stay.
Goodbye, old coffee table with your chipped caulking. No one could hold a drink like you. Goodbye old nightstand which lay beside me since I was a teenager. Your drawers never did line up with the track, but we made it work. Goodbye office chair which I got for a steal. Goodbye puzzles of a clear blue sky my wife somehow had patience for.
Goodbye to my NEW dryer which I bought NEW at Best Buy. You have all these NEW features which I’ve never had before you, but even though you are NEW, I can’t take you with me because there’s not enough room for a NEW dryer in my NEW apartment. So now I get to sell this NEW dryer at an OLD price. GAH!
But most importantly, goodbye to my old laptop. You’ve run your course either way, but it’s still sad. We spent years together writing novels which I still hope to publish. You and I used to visit this very website. And we crafted blogs about bean bag chairs to pay the bills. But we both have to move on now. Have fun with your new family.
Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue
It seems that when God wants to give us something great, he usually takes something, too. Sometimes we’re ready for it, like an addiction or a lifestyle we’re tired of. But sometimes he takes things we like.
Clearing out all this stuff paves the way for a new life in Denver. We’re starting over, living out some great adventure. Ain’t got a job, but we’re going anyway.
That’s the thing: moving means saying goodbye to the old, safer me and making way for a braver, bolder me, one that takes God at his word that he’ll look out for me. So I may be saying goodbye told memories, but that’s only because it’s time for new ones. My wife and I can’t dwell in the past. We have to make room for the life we want, the abundant life God promised us.
So as we clear out the cobwebs of nostalgia, let us keep the attitude of God in Revelation 21:5. “Behold, I make all things new.”