Well, I don't actually know where I'm going. Gosh, I don't even know where I'm going to live tomorrow or next week or three months from now. There are deep waters around me, yet also a God who splits the sea so I can walk right through it. And I know the thrill of being ready to move in a moment's notice. When the sea opens, I can pack all my possessions into my little blue Volkswagen and be moved within an hour.
In reality I'm not fully prepared. I have a little pile of old letters and journals I'm digitalizing that I might throw them away. And a little pile of brown packages which are gifts to be delivered - Christmas gifts I bought and never got around to giving, and books I'm giving as gifts in order to downsize my own collection of physical possessions. Dragons in our Midst goes to Cheyenne, The City of Ember goes to Lexi, The Door Within goes to Lydia... you know, the book series that are the favorites. DragonKeeper Chronicles and Goldstone Woods and some of the other ones I gave away in another purge. I can always re-aquire them. The Chronicles of Narnia I sent back to California with my parents, though. One day I may reclaim it when I am free to truly start building my library. And a friend is borrowing Lord of the Rings. Or perhaps keeping it. It isn't an original binding like my Narnia books, so I needn't set it aside like those.
But in any case, even with these oddments that are pending to be gotten rid of, still I could fit everything in my car and be moved within an hour. I like it. I have 15 sharp neat little plastic boxes that stack in my trunk, which is the majority of what I own. 15 little bins and a few even smaller plastic boxes that tuck around them. Then I have six small plastic drawers which contain my clothes and a few key items. I have a laundry hamper into which all my closet clothes can instantly be deposited into. One bin of off-season clothes, a printer, a sewing machine, and a microscope. A clamp lamp, a blanket and pillow, a suitcase. Two bows and a roll of large paper maps with a handful of arrows neatly tucked in the middle. A mirror and my framed GL graduation pictures and diploma.
...And that's pretty much it. And yet even so it feels like so much stuff to me. I have to place these items in the back seat and passenger seat of my car. If only I could reduce my physical possessions down to merely the 15 bins in the trunk. But I have weighed it out, and it simply isn't practical. The sewing machine could go, the microscope could go, the printer could go... but I use them. Well, maybe I don't actually use them, but I might. You never know when you need to print something and haven't the time to run to the library. Or get the urge to sew, or look at something microscopic. No, I choose to hold onto these things. My maps and bows and arrows too. They're special. They have meaning to me. That's why I drag them all over everywhere with me. And then I can't exactly get rid of my wardrobe, of course. Not a literal wardrobe, I just mean my clothes. One bin, six drawers, and a basket full of hang-up clothes.
It is actually exciting living in these days. I knew they were coming. I knew there would be a time in my life when I needed to be light, free, unencumbered by stuff, able to move in a moment's notice. A time when I not only needed to be prepared, but when I actually would be doing what I was prepared to do. I've known this for a long time. I remember the epiphany moment when I looked at my plethora of belongings in my room in California and knew it had to go. That was many years ago. How many? Well, I distinctly remember coupled with that epiphany moment was the shock of Obama's election to office and what it could mean for our country in the long term, though how related the two thoughts were I cannot say. I was 14 years old. And now I'm 22. Eight years ago, echoes of the future were making contact with my heart. And today I live in that future.
I lived in the same house for the first 20 years of my life. And in the 2.5 years since, I've moved a total of seven times, anticipating the eighth in the near future.
And I can tell you, every time I move I feel the urge to reduce my possessions yet again. Each move is easier. I downsize every time. And this time, this time I have poured special energy into that downsizing and organization. I've never actually packed everything into my car and moved it in one trip. Sometimes it was two trips, sometimes I left a bit of storage behind and went back for it later, or whatnot. But now I have this new goal, which I have attained though I am still applying the finishing touches, that I might simply place every single belonging I have in my car and move in one trip. It will be satisfying to do so when the time comes. Even my bike, which is still at my last place, can come with me on the same trip by being on my bike rack behind my car. I also left behind a large map with cardboard backing there, but I think it might fit in my car as well. It's just awkward sticking it in my little car at the best of times, because it is so big. But if needed, I would be okay if something came up and I couldn't get it back. So therefore I don't count it in my mental assessment of my possessions.
Now, what does all this really have to do with anything? I don't know, it's just something in my heart. It mirrors something within me. The less stuff I am encumbered with, the more free I feel. And being yet more organized still this time settles comfortably in my soul, for as humans we reproduce the environment outside of us that is within us. I like that. Even little things like keeping my room clean is soothing to me. It's soothing to know that I have that discipline. How hard is it to pick something up and put it on a hanger right away, instead of waiting for a huge buildup before tidying up? How hard is it? It can be pretty hard. Because it's not the physical difficulty of picking it up and placing it on the hanger that we're measuring, it's the mental difficulty of focusing enough to do that. Being willing to pause whatever else is mentally happening long enough to put the jacket on the hanger instead of flinging it somewhere. That is a legitimate difficulty to the mind, and the will. But it tastes good to overcome it, absorb it as a habit, and no longer even have to think about it. And to desire that. To be bothered by pencils left laying on the floor or a messy bed. To have a messy environment somehow contradict the environment that exists inside of me is a pleasure to me. To feel the need to be in a clean place because that's... that's just who I am. That's who I have become. And I like that.
Yeah. I love my life, I love my God, I love adventures. And I know where I'm going. I live in my promised land, and I'm going deeper in. I live in a land flowing with milk and honey, and I'm going further up and further in. I know where I'm going on the inside. I don't know what all of the external circumstances will be, but I know where I'm going on the inside. Jeremiah 29:11 is an isolated verse printed on Bible covers and flung across the scrolling expanse of Pinterest, written on our hearts and cherished in our souls... and yet how comforting it is to learn the rest of the story. To read the surrounding verses. To get the picture of a future and a hope just bubbling up and spilling over from the inside, from the prisoner of war to the exile returning home, there is a future and a hope to fill up on the inside those who seek God with all their hearts.
I'm still interested in external trajectory, of course! ;) And internal trajectory, as well. What is the internal process going to look like in this particular season of going further up and further in? And what is the external trajectory going to look like? So many decisions to be made. But for now I shall conclude... it is a pleasure to tap the keys and to type. It has been a while. I enjoy this.
