Flip, tape, wrap, fill, repeat. The kitchen was a maze of boxes, tape guns, scissors and newspapers. There was one box labeled “keep” and a dozen that I couldn’t take with me. The house was frozen, paralyzed at the point in time where there would be no future, only memories within these walls. My mood was stale – somewhere between convincing optimism and creeping resentment. As I sorted through china patterns, cooking utensils, and linens, I felt a tangible sense of loss. I was moving into a new life with about 2,200 fewer square feet, yet paradoxically, infinitely more room to follow God’s dreams for my life.
Something profound happens when circumstance forces you to downsize. You begin to learn to let go. It starts with material things – duplicate serving spoons or all of the silver platters you don’t have room for anymore. Once the sting of superficial loss fades, we are able to face truly giving up and surrendering to God.
I was staring passively at a turkey platter as if it was a television screen, watching episodes of each Thanksgiving meal I served to loved ones on that dish, when two of my dearest friends from the church came in through the garage door. Their warmth pierced the stillness and pulled me into the present. I stood for a moment, letting the symbolism sink in; there will be times of loss in life, but “giving up” gains perspective for all of us. It helps us to see the kindness right before us, it generates an opportunity to experience the depth of friendship and the gift of God’s grace.
The season of Lent is foundational, introspective, and straightforward; Christ was born to redeem us. His redemption came not through material gain or physical force but through an authentic stripping of self and an intentional investment in the relationship He has with us, God’s children. In this spirit, we should be asking ourselves what we can be giving up so that the true gifts that God gives us become more apparent in our lives. Challenge yourself to declutter your life spiritually so that God can fill the vacancy with hope and joy and grace.
Beth Armstrong, Director of Marketing
