Sitting Among the Rubble

I am not supposed to be here. Sitting in my living room, that is. It is still the living room, but it's not my living room. We closed on another home and sold this one yesterday. So technically, this is my former living room. It only remotely resembles it's glorious past. When we first moved in 7 years ago, it was adorned with new furnitute and accessories. It was pristine and clean. Now, I'm sitting among the rubble. There is a blue Rubbermaid container sans the lid, a pile of discared clothing, two empty bookcases, two occassional chairs, and a half empty diet softdrink from last night masquerading as living room furniture. We were supposed to have met the movers here last night and moved well into the night. When they called early yesterday and confessed they had over-booked and we were low on their priority list, we were told our move would be delayed for two days. The problem is we had just given almost everything we own to a local mission organization. There are no couches, loveseats, end-tables or ottomans. There is no way to wash clothing because we gave them our washer/dryer as well. There is no dining room furniture and even the breakfast nook is empty. Now with the walls bare and the floor uncluttered you can see the battle damage of raising two teenage boys in a confined space. Adam was 13 and Andy was 8 when we moved here. They have left their mark.

So the movers are coming to get us tomorrow morning. The new refrigerator will be delivered in two weeks along with the new agitatorless washing machine. We bought new living room furniture, promised delivery: Friday. So out with the old and in with the new. That's why I am sitting here alone among the rubble. Thinking of the few material things left and all that has gone. I am pondering my emotions. Call me heartless and cold, but I really feel no regret. All the things destined for some family somewhere going through a temporary setback leaves me with no sadness. Just a hope that our meager gift can help our fellow man. In a similar way, the thoughts of new furnishings, and even a new house, elicits very little emotion in me either. That's saying something for someone who grew up as poor as I did. Could it be that I have finally learned that things are just that. Things! Inanimate objects that neither receive or give love. No matter how expensive the thing, it is still just that, wood and hay and stubble. (You who are acquainted with your Bible will understand that one.) So sitting here among the rubble I am reminded what is most important. My relationship with my Lord, my family, and my friends is the only thing worth preserving. Solomon determined that the pursuit of happiness that runs in any other direction is just "pursuing the wind." MY home is not here. It is not at the new house either. Sitting here it is exceedingly clear that there is only one place that will ever totally satisfy my soul. Until then, we are all just sitting among the rubble.
In His Shadow,
Pastor Ken