I try to keep a flat, open hand with, well, nearly everything.
When we moved from the house where we'd lived for 14 years, Tom and I gave away one-fourth of our belongings, probably more. Do I regret any of that recklessness? Not really. Oh, there was a cute desk I wish we had kept and there were things we had to replace, though their importance must be lightweight because I can't recall them specifically (oh yeah, a lawnmower, garden tools, oh, and a couple books, etc.). But mostly I appreciate how we purged our stuff with no tears and minimum angst.
And have I regretted releasing the house where I lived longer than all others, the one whose every wall I painted? Nope. And not just because we have this small, dream-come-true farm, either. Both Tom and I loved that one-bedroom apartment we shared for 6 months before moving out here, still now we speak fondly, dreamily of our simplistic apartment days.
I've heard some people say they would die, just simply roll over and die if they couldn't preach about God. Or sing about Him before crowds. Or work in their church or do a bazillion good deeds for others. And I realize that sounds quite holy.
But me? If God asked me to leave this blog, this ministry, this connection He's given me with you, (some of the most wonderful people in the world), well, I would do it--in a heartbeat--if He asked that of me. And I know I'd be fine (though, yes, I would miss you).
Why? How? It goes back to the open hand thing. I desire to hold all things in this Earth upon my opened palm, not squeezing so tightly as though--if I were to let go--I would waste away without them. My earthly life is so temporary and all lives, the Bible says, are like grass, here one day, then dried-up and blown away the next. So really, I only grasp dust when I make a fist around anything or anyone I believe I need so badly.
The only non-sand-like thing in this Life? Jesus. And that is why I so often think and write and say that as long as I have Jesus, I'll be ok. Just give me Jesus and all will be well. Only He can be here whenever I need Him, only He promises to stay until my final moment and beyond that, even swooshing along with me to Heaven.
Only He will never squeeze out from between my fingers like sand and so it's only Him who I grasp so very, very tightly all the days of my grass-like life.
1 Corinthians 2:2
For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.
1 Peter 1:23-25
For, "All men are like grass,
and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;
the grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of the Lord stands forever."