I was sitting in the passenger seat of our Subaru hatchback with my elbow lazily propped against the fabric of the car door. With my chin in my hand, I watched the peaks of the valley swiftly come in and out of view. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the cool air-conditioned breeze kiss the warmth of my cheeks. I sat amazed, in wonder, and in humility.
Yesterday, we returned to southern Oregon from an all-too-quick jaunt to Portland.
We stayed in the house that we own, in the southwest blocks of the city. When we arrived, we pulled into the steep driveway… the one that’s downright dangerous when a rare frosty snow comes to dust the pavement. I looked up at the house… the grey siding with the stately white pillars that guard the front door. I missed this house.
We were greeted by the family who is so lovingly caring for our home while we’re away. My feet shuffled along the hardwood floors in the entryway as the sounds of life permeated down the hall. I could hear their twin boys giggling from the living room. We made our way further into the house, and there it was… that kitchen that I’ve always adored. The one with the stainless steel surfaces and speckled granite and beautiful stained cabinets.
It was wonderful and full of life and love, being in that Portland house of ours with friends who revitalize our souls.
Our weekend came to a familiar ending and we found ourselves driving south along the interstate corridor, less than twenty four hours after we arrived.
So, there I sat… in the passenger seat, moping about the increasing distance we were placing between our tiny little family and that house.
In the midst of my pouting, I grabbed my phone, hoping to allow my mind some reprieve… looking to fill my eyes with the stories of others. I started reading a few blogs that I know and love… only to have my heart ripped out of my chest.
See, there are a group of bloggers who are currently in Guatemala, visiting Compassion centers and children… having their eyes burst open with the pictures and faces of so many who are desperate for care and sponsorship.
As I sat and stared at my phone, there were pictures. So many pictures. The homes of families made out of mud and metal pieces. Unstable roofs over the heads of young children. Mudslides crashing over narrow pathways. But, there were also the pictures of these precious, precious children. Toothless grins from small girls and bright eyes from young boys. Confetti being thrown in the air out of celebration for the arrival of those foreign faces.
My mind wandered to our sweet Izabayo in Rwanda. I wonder if she’s had a good meal… enough clean water to drink and stay hydrated. It’s been a while since southern Rwanda has seen rain. I pray that she’s healthy… that she made it to her schooling lessons that day.
And then I was struck stiff.
Here I am, in a comfortably cool vehicle, traveling between TWO homes… one that we own, and one that we rent… both of which are filled to the brim with things we don’t need. My mouth feels dry and I take a swig of the water out of the plastic bottle I grabbed at the gas station. I think about the millions of children who, every day, struggle to find clean water to drink… the children who die of waterborne illnesses like diarrhea. I become uncomfortable in my own skin and I start to feel the creeping warmth… so I take off the sweater that has so easily kept me warm over the last two days.
In the Portland house, we have attic space that’s stuffed with boxes, full of things we haven’t laid eyes or hands on in years. Clothes that don’t fit, furniture we don’t use. We have cupboards full of books and old movies and pens and notebooks, none of which we have touched in ages.
Quickly my thoughts turned from self-pity to very frank humility. I sat in that air-conditioned car and, once again, was humbled by God’s grace, His blessing. Stunned into silence and discomfort with everything we have been provided.
The basics.
Clean water to drink, bathe in, wash clothes and dishes, and make our grass green.
Food on the table, in the fridge, in the pantry and in the freezer. An abundance of nourishment.
Not one, but two roofs.
Electricity.
I could go on and on with the things that we have been provided… more than we could ever use.
And, again, I was reminded of the excess stuff. The storage spaces full of things that have blocked my view and desensitized my nerves, to the point that I’ve made myself believe that I NEED these unnecessary luxuries.
So often… too often… I have pushed the Lord out to make room in my heart for the things that don’t matter.
So, I am on a mission… a slow one, to be sure… and with a learning curve. But I am praying the big prayers of simplicity. Praying that the excess in my life will be clearly visible, so I might know it and be rid of it. That I will learn to live more fully on less stuff. That I will become a better steward of what I have been blessed with. That I will never seek comfort and complacency, but always striving to grow and change and grow even more.
I am on a mission to be even more thankful, more aware of the things I’ve been blessed with. The things that seem simple and insignificant to me… but would tilt the Earth’s axis in the eyes of our sweet Izabayo in Rwanda.
What are YOU thankful for this Thursday?
221. Watching Rowan splash in soapy water at the end of the day. 222. The subsequent smell of a freshly cleaned baby after aforementioned bath. 223. Crisp, cool mornings accompanied by a hot cup of coffee. 224. A glass of cold water to drink, whenever I want it. 225. The sweet face of Izabayo, perched so delicately on the front of my refrigerator. 226. A beautiful and comfortable home to live in, sleep in, play in and love in. 227. This book. It’s GOOD. 228. A growing community of friends who write in this crazy blogosphere. 229. How pictures can tell a story… a strong, life-changing story. 230. On Christ, the solid rock, I stand. All other ground is sinking sand.
Would you consider sponsoring a child in Guatemala through Compassion? Click here.
For a mere $38/month, you are helping to provide education, nourishment, development, healthcare and spiritual growth in the life of a child.
You can also follow along with the Compassion bloggers in Guatemala by clicking here.
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I’d love to hear what your thankful for every week. Will you share with me?
Hi -
I found your blog via Tiny Twig, and I added your feed to my blog reader because the adventure you write about is so much at the heart of what God has been teaching me (except maybe not necessarily in an outdoors-y way, but more of a life-live-to-the-fullest way, even inside. If that even makes sense).
I just returned home (like, two days ago) from a trip to Africa, and as I’ve been comparing the pace of those two weeks to my normal pace here at home, its clear that something needs to give. I thought about cutting out TV watching all-together (I’ve already limited it over the last several months), but it wasn’t until I read your words here that I decided to actually do it. Specifically, these words:
“But I am praying the big prayers of simplicity. Praying that the excess in my life will be clearly visible, so I might know it and be rid of it.”
And there was my light-bulb moment, when God said, “I’ve shown you the excess in your life. Now get rid of it.”
The truth is, sometimes the excess is stuff we have, and sometimes its stuff we do. And somtimes I need to pray not just that I would see it, but have the courage to change it.
Thanks for letting God use you to speak to me today!
Well, hi! I’m so glad you’re here. Isn’t Twig wonderful? She’s a favorite of mine.
It’s so heartwarming and encouraging to know someone else who can relate to this desire for simplicity. But oh, goodness. It’s HARD! Painful! Humbling! But, we press onward towards the goal, because I believe this process is only going to refine us, Kristy. I really do. I would absolutely LOVE to hear about your experience in Africa… drop me a line and tell me your story.
Thanks for your kind words.
I just love your word pictures – they are so vivid and beautiful. You definitely have a gift for writing!
I’ve been feeling the Lord’s gentle nudging to get rid of STUFF. To simplify and cut waaaaay down on what we have. We too have been blessed with a lot – and of course I don’t just mean “things”. But if we could use some of our things to bless others….
Thanks for the kick in the pants! =)
Hi, Steph… thank you so much for your compliment and encouragement. You are very kind to say so.
I think what you said here is the key… thanks for pointing it out… it’s not just about getting rid of our stuff for our own transformation… but it’s about GIVING that stuff to bless others! YES! Right there, that’s what it’s about, right?
I just love how God lines up Divine meetings! I so, so randomly found your blog and it is truly a breath of fresh air. Yes, you have an amazing ability to write, but because you write from your heart it just jumps off of the page and into the souls who read it!
I, too, have been feeling the desire to de-clutter and re-prioritize my “things”. More importantly, as my kids get older (my oldest is 8), I am seeing a much more important role developing of showing my kids that their “stuff” does not define them, nor does it make them happier, more popular or more successful. If anything I want to show them that people will be drawn to them by the content of their heart, not the content of their pockets. In a world where my 3rd grader is begging for an iphone because “all” of his friends have one, I literally want to pack up and move to, well, Oregon! Somewhere outside of the concrete jungle that is our world here in the city. Where they remember what playing in the mud feels like, and cutting down their own Christmas tree!
So, enough of my rambling, thanks for posting! I am thoroughly enjoying it!
Oh Andrea, I also love making meaningful connections! Thanks for being here and sharing your heart. My Rowan is still so young… but I honestly can’t even comprehend the little hands of a third grader holding their own iPhone. It really forces me to stop and think about where our culture is taking us… down this never-ending road of relentless consumerism.
When we’re in Portland, we live in that same concrete jungle… so don’t be fooled about Oregon!
It’s a beautiful place to be sure, but the battles and struggles that we fight here are the same everywhere. Let’s stick together, no matter where we are and strive to live intentionally!
The stuff issue is one of mine as well. I have closets full of things that I rarely (if ever) use that are just sitting there for the “right moment.” There’s just stuff everywhere!
And I know I don’t need it all, but I’m also so tied to it that sometimes it’s embarrassing to admit to myself. Could I really leave it all behind if God called me to? I hope so, but it’d be a challenge for sure.
A friend and I are working on going through our homes and getting rid of the stuff we don’t need. Simplifying. I even find it hard to do that, because it can be so much work just to sort through all the mess I’ve accumulated over the years. So I’m right there with ya!
what a beautiful post! humility can hurt but it’s always good. thank you for speaking the tough words to us today.
We live in such excess here, it’s so easy to forget that so many are living in poverty. The amount of junk we cram into our lives often turns my stomach! (Honestly, if my children acquire one more Dollar Tree item that they play with one time and never pick up again, I think I’m gonna have to boycott.) Was it Emily Dickinson who said “The world is too much with us”? She was right on. It’s actually suffocating, in light of what you just wrote about so poignantly.