Downward Mobility

... the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls,

who when he had found one pearl of great price,

went and sold all that he had and bought it.

Matthew 13:45, 46

It's been nearly seven years since my husband Ernie passed away in 2008.

After being married to him for thirty years, I needed time to adjust to life without him by my side. 

Many new things were happening to me as well. 

Youngest daughter moved out of the family nest to work in Manila two years earlier. 

Our two sons got married around that time, and soon after, two grandsons were added to our family. 

First Born son brought his wife to live with him in the home where Ernie and I raised our children, second son Worshiper brought his wife to live with us in the home next door that we lived in after Ernie's first heart attack in 2006. 

I truly wanted to get to know my new daughters well, to appreciate the unique persons that God created them to be.

A number of ministry opportunities were also being made available to me.

With all these changes happening all at the same time, I had a good excuse to take life in stride, and give myself time to settle down.

A year ago, Worshiper and his family moved into their own home. 

For the first time in my life, I experienced what it feels like to have an empty nest.

Honestly, this new season was a welcome change for me.

I had a sense of accomplishment, of feeling affirmed for having raised our children well, 

for having equipped them adequately for adult life and responsibilities, 

for having brought our children safely over to the other side of the deep river.

I enjoyed a kind of freedom. And it gave me enough time and space to re-discover myself.

To take stock, and to take a long hard look at what's ahead of me.

I haven't had time to go through our cupboards and closets, all the stuff that Ernie and I had accumulated and were meaningful to our family in a past season.

But I have long realized that that season is over.

And now, I felt ready to face the difficult task of going back to cabinets, crates, boxes, and suitcases of old things that no longer serve an eternal purpose in my life.

Ever since I entered the world of blogging seven years ago, my life has been enriched by the friends I have made. Many of my blog friends have also become my friends when I decided to join Facebook in 2012.

One of these cyber friends is a remarkable young woman named Colleen. 

In one of her recent Facebook updates, she wrote:

I read a line in a book once about a woman having so many possessions that she was made anonymous by them. Because of how much she owned, her true spirit and personality were difficult to discern. Rather than having just a few things that spoke of who she was, she instead was "made anonymous" by her excess possessions... Keeping everything hides who you are and disguises what's important to you and in your life. Keeping just a few things highlights your interests, passions, and personality!

When I read this, I felt like something stabbed my heart. 

It's been happening to me more often these past weeks, that stab-like feeling in my heart. One evening, I was listening to Joni Tada talk about the theology of suffering. At the end, I really found myself kneeling before God... not knowing what to say... but with tears flowing down my face, thanked Him for giving me the privilege to listen to such anointed words from a woman who had enough credentials to talk about the rightful place of suffering in our lives.

What I felt after reading Colleen's words was something like that.

I wanted so much to get rid of all the non-essential stuff in my two houses, and to only have a few important things.

Keep what is beautiful, and meaningful, and useful. Give away what I can, throw away what I should.

To travel light in these the autumn years of my life.

Look at these poignant words written by Jeffrey Tang:

"Minimalism is about becoming a high connoisseur of life. Being willing to burn away the chaff in order to enjoy the wheat of life, like a sommelier who discards a thousand cheap imitations in favor of a single bottle of fine wine, or like the biblical merchant who sells all his belongings to purchase a pearl of surpassing beauty." (Minimalist Connoisseurs)

As I read these lines, I am thinking of the terrible trap of self indulgence that many of us have fallen into.

These traps can come in many forms... pursuing hobbies and shallow relationships, buying expensive clothes and accessories and gadgets and cars to fill an inner emptiness, travelling to places to satisfy an inner restlessness...

I am not a judge of anyone who does these things, but I am free to judge and evaluate my own life.

Right now, my deep desire is to rid my inner and outer life of clutter, and am so thankful to Abba Father for the realization and motivation.

I end this post with this Bible story:

Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me." 

And Jesus answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her. - Luke 10:38-42

When I keep only a few precious and beautiful things, I free myself to enjoy more of what Father God intended for me to enjoy.

Like Mary, I want to choose the good part, that one thing which is needful.

In these the sunset years of my life, I want to be a connoisseur of life.

I echo the words of Jeffrey Tang:

"Be a curator of life. Edit. Leave out the junky parts. Don't be afraid to say no -- but when you find something worth saying yes to-- treasure it. Enjoy it. Hang it on the walls of your museum and be proud of it."