I’m a bit chubby in the flesh, but that is nothing compared to the excess that surrounds my life. The last two weeks have been a painful exercise as I moved out of the pastor’s office. Painful, heartbreaking, soul-shattering painful: like embalming your own dead children kind of painful. Not because of the work itself, which is considerable, but because of the memories and destroyed hopes. Every paper, every book, every memento carried a memory of my betrayal. I truly understand why most men commit suicide rather than repent of moral sin.
I went from a 12′ by 15′ space to a 5′ by 2′ space…from 9 monitors to 3…32 shelves down to 12 shelves full of books…an awesome $400 desk chair to a $25 stool – you get the point. But at the end, as boxes are carted off to give away, as my life’s dreams are given to another – there is peace.
Is a loss of fat helps the body, how much more the loss of excess stuff to the soul?
And shall we be honest? I should be writing from a homeless shelter not a closet by our bedroom. Our bedroom… A Bible, pencil, and paper would be more than I deserve. But have a loving wife, a beautiful family, a forgiving church, temporary purpose – and a triple monitor writing station.
I am rich
1 Timothy 6:6 But godliness with contentment is great gain.
CPH – Aug 4, 2018
Learning to Run 