A Car of a Different Color

 Psalm 78:25—He split rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink abundantly as from the deep.

The verdict is in. The hardest thing to pack? Not clothes. Not books. Not shoes.

Arts and crafts supplies. …Seriously, where did all this stuff come from?

But I have been surprised about this packing thing. Let me tell you why.

My brother’s car was destroyed about six months ago in a hail storm. (I’m not sure, but I think he prayed his old junky car away...)  Since then, we’ve just had four cars in the family, so he, Dad, and Mom have been sharing two vehicles between them. Luckily, I’ve been here this summer to give people rides, but when I leave, Mom is going to have to go back to sharing, which will be difficult, because the bro will be in school, and Mom will be working again. (She’s a teacher.) She suggested last week that perhaps I should leave my (very beloved) car here, and just lease a car when I get to DC—something she hadn’t thought of, and which I believe the Holy Spirit inspired her to say.

If you know me (and if you are reading this blog, you probably do), you know how much my bright red Honda Fit means to me. She (her name is Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, in fact) was the first new car my parents had ever bought. I paid the down-payment with money saved from my high-school jobs, and my parents drove not-so-great cars themselves to be able to afford the payments while I was in school. So it surprised me that I only hesitated for a split second after Mom suggested this lease thing before I agreed wholeheartedly. It was actually a relief for me. I didn’t want to have to worry about Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle getting stolen or damaged or whatever. (DC traffic was just voted worst in the country, fyi.) And if I leave her here…well, as Forrest Gump would say, “Good. One less thing.” My parents are getting an extra vehicle, though not in the way they expected; I will have enough money, abundantly enough, to afford a lease payment.

And my next thoughts surprised me, too: if I like my new lease car, I’ll just keep it when the lease is up, and sell Tiggy to pay it off.

Again, those of you who know me (probably 100% of readers) are gasping. Sell her??? A year ago, I wouldn’t have considered it. My car has always had a lot of sentimental value for me. (I mean, I still use personal pronouns when referring to her…)

But now I know what Jesus meant when He said, “Don’t even carry two tunics” (Matthew 10:10). Once, in small group, we had a lengthy discussion about whether or not the second tunic was underwear, because someone thought Jesus was telling His disciples to go commando. I think He was talking about overcoats, but that’s beside the point. Basically, what He meant here was that extra stuff was going to weigh them down in their work for Him, and the Lord would make sure they had what they needed when they got where they were going. They didn’t need to worry about it. In the words of a wise woman: “ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat.”

Stuff just isn’t worth the trouble. Even a much-beloved car. Glue sticks, construction paper, and acrylic paint can be tossed overboard. (Again, if you know me, that astonishes you to hear.)

I am pleasantly surprised to discover that God has done a miracle on me once again. The girl who, genetically, was destined to be a hoarder (no, I mean for real—there are actual hoarders in my family…) can now let go of stuff, drop it on a dime, and move somewhere new. I can get other stuff when I get there. Then I can throw that out and move again. Because you know what happens to all that stuff?

It rots. It decays. It will eventually burn. What’s that verse about “all of heaven and earth passing away”?...I think that might include craft supplies.

Since we’re just taking one car, I am in the position of having to choose which “supplies” I can do without. And I’m finding, as I am determining the value of my possessions, that most of them really aren’t that valuable.

I’m not going to pull the “starving kids in India” card here, berate American consumerism, or give you some sticky line about life being more important than stuff. I will tell you, however, what Jesus said:

Matthew 6:25-26—“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?”

That’s easy for me to say, in my suburban American lifestyle, right? But I didn’t say it. Jesus did. And He wasn’t being figurative here. He literally depended upon his heavenly Father for His basic needs (two tunics or not).

Let me take a moment to praise the Lord for my sister’s job.

She has been searching and purposefully praying for a new job for a long time, and it has been hard for her to get one because she doesn’t have a college degree. She interviewed recently for a part-time bank job in a town that is a long commute away, and she was willing to take the part-time position. However, the lady called her Friday to say that the part-time position had been filled, BUT they were hiring for a FULL-TIME position at the bank in OUR hometown—literally five minutes from our house! She went in that afternoon to inquire about it, and they gave it to her on the spot! Praise God!

So, she went into her old job the other day to resign. To put it nicely, her workplace has been “unfriendly.” Needless to say, we all prayed it would go well for her when she resigned, because she doesn’t have time to give two weeks’ notice. Guess what? They gave her all of her remaining vacation days, so she is actually off this week before she starts her new job, and she’s getting paid for it!!!

Extra, unexpected abundance. God don’t give His children junk. We ask for bread, and God gives us a wedding cake fit for His son’s bride. Even when we are willing to settle for less, He blesses us beyond what we expect. It may not be exactly what we want—but I think that is because most of the time we don’t know what we want. Basically: when you resolve to follow Christ, when you set out to do His work on the earth, He will provide for you. My sister is a girl after God’s heart. This woman wakes up praying. I know her genuine desire is to please Him. I have watched Him provide for her so she can set about His work.

As Christians, we are adopted sons and daughters, right alongside Jesus in the family tree (Galatians 3:26-27 and 4:6; Romans 8:15). To say that we are not worthy to be provided for is saying that Jesus, who is also a son, is not worthy. Maybe you never thought of it like that before, but it’s the truth.

Matthew 6:19-21—“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Treasure implies something stored, something laid up, something so valuable that all of your hope rests in it. Are you tossing your anxiety about stuff overboard—or are you putting craft supplies in your treasure chest? ’Cuz I hate to tell you, but in that case, your heart might be buried in a pile of glitter and paintbrushes, as mine once was.

God is sometimes called Jehovah-Jireh, or “our Provider.” My mom (who used to be a breastfeeding consultant, coincidentally) likes to remind me that this name can be translated as “the breasted one”—literally, a caring, familial mother who provides children with milk from her own body. That’s how much God cares for you.

Yet, Jesus said, “So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:32)

That sounds harsh. But don’t look at me. Look at Jesus. He said it.

The aim of our relationship with God is not solely for Him to pour down physical blessings on our head. I also don’t think we should all throw everything we have away and go live naked in a cardboard box. And I’m definitely not implying that we should be idle time-wasters, waiting for God to throw a Porsche convertible down on our heads. (I don’t think that’s what the “birds of the air” do, at least.) All of these reactions to what Jesus said are missing the point.

This is the beautiful irony: the stuff really just doesn’t matter when you are following Him, yet when you are in Him, He provides for you beyond your expectations. We don’t have time to be idle, and we don’t have time to be earthly workaholics anxious about our stuff, even stuff we need.  The time is short.

People have real needs—food, water, clothing, shelter. When Jesus walked the earth in His physical body, He had to be concerned about these things too—and He probably had to think about it a lot more than your average middle-class American. He knew the power of God, and He knew that the Father could wave His hand and provide for whatever needs Jesus and His disciples had—often beyond their expectations. But they had to be willing to give up their stuff—the possessions that gave them a sense of identity, a sense of earthly security, a certain level of comfort—to do what was asked of them.

Paul said, “But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you.” (Philippians 3:13-14)

God certainly has revealed things to me, degree by degree, over the past several years. My walk with Jesus is more important than my clothes, shoes, hot glue gun, or even my car. It is even worth more than my comfort. Because I have found a joy in the Lord that does not compare with anything on earth. Truly. My prayer is that as I am more and more challenged in this, I am more strengthened in it also.

I’m not saying I’m better than you because I am some kind of hippie unattached to possessions. There are plenty of missionaries out there who would beat me in the poverty contest. And I still enjoy shopping sometimes. But I just want to praise the Lord for freeing me from my fleshly desire to hoard provisions as though they would disappear and leave me hanging. I just want to praise God for offering me a joy and a peace that makes me want to heed Jesus’ call to trust in the Lord for all of my needs—which, when I am walking closely with Him, turn out to be surprisingly few.

My life has been the story of full baskets. When I was a child, my family was poor (by American standards), but through prayer, we always received God’s provision. Food appeared on our doorstep (sometimes literally). I have personally received all kinds of financial blessing and physical provision from God—completely free education, a free place to live in DC, random gifts showing up at fortunate times, free meal upon free meal…even down to the brand-new comforter one of my roommates won right before I moved in with her; I came in and found it lying on the bed, waiting for me. None of this extravagance was expected. All I did was pray for provision. Each blessing has been a reminder: “I got this. You just get yourself busy with my work; I’ll do the rest” (Matthew 6:33).

Matthew 16:8-10—“O you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread? Do you not yet perceive? Do you not remember the five loaves for the five thousand, and how many baskets you gathered? Or the seven loaves for the four thousand, and how many baskets you gathered?”

Here, Jesus was trying to give the disciples a figurative illustration of the “leaven of the Pharisees and the Sadducees,” and His disciples were distracted talking about their physical need for bread.

Really, guys?...Yet I feel like Jesus has to come to me sometimes and say, “Really? Do you not yet perceive? Do you not remember?”

I think that, by now, I am starting to remember. And that is why I am ok with leaving my bright red car behind. I don’t have time to be concerned about what color my car is. Most of the time, I don’t even know what I need, but I have learned that, whatever it is, it will be waiting for me when I get to the place He wants me to go. I’m along for the ride (no matter what vehicle gets me there).

I will be packing my underwear, though…just in case anyone was wondering.