Oozits and Whatsits Galore

It turns out that having everything isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Over thirteen weeks ago we packed (not even all) our lives into a container in New Zealand and set it on its way to our new home in the South-East of England. Three months of living out of suitcases, borrowing items, sharing sofas, and receiving others' generosity culminated in the arrival of our belongings to our new home.

Many have asked how nice it is to have all our stuff back. And I'm struggling to know how to answer. I've found myself relating to Ariel in the Little Mermaid: I, too, have spent years collecting trinkets and thingamebobs, and it turns out that I still want more. 

But not more stuff. 

Receiving our things back has been a blessing for the kids. Reunited with treasured teddies and items that bring a sense of familiar has indeed been important. But as I've waded through the boxes and clutter and sought to find new homes for All. Our. Stuff., I have realised how what I really crave, the more that I want, is actually less.

You see. I don't think our lives were ever supposed to get this busy. I don't think our souls were ever supposed to be this cluttered. I don't want to add to our possessions. I don't want more oozits or whatsits. I actually want what Ariel wants: relationship. 

And so in the middle of the madness of unpacking and rehoming items (that I question how they didn't get culled the first time round), I find myself relating to Jesus' teaching in Luke 12 when "he said to them, "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions" (v.15 NIV). 

How I feel that. The abundance of possessions I have been trying to squeeze into a significantly smaller home has left me pining after those weeks when choosing clothes was between A, or B, rather than sifting through box after box to select another variation of the same thing. And I wonder, when, how, and why did I succumb to the lie that more stuff would satisfy my soul? 

I don't want to be like the Rich Fool of Luke 12 who stores up for himself and is not rich towards God (v.21). I'm learning that I don't want more gadgets and gizmos, and so perhaps it's time to cull again, not just the stuff that is taking up my literal and physical space, but the stuff that has crept into my timetable, my priorities, and my mind that has slowly crowded out the space that belongs to the only One who truly provides the abundance I crave.

It's time to make space for relationship with the Lover of my Soul again. After all, He’s the One who promises to bring us into a spacious place, a place we can breathe, a place of rescue (Psalm 18:19). So how about you, where might you need to declutter in life to ensure you can be rich in relationship with your Heavenly Father?