This morning my boys stood to eat their cereal. Out of Dollar Tree bowls. With plastic spoons. There aren’t enough places to sit and clothes are piled high because no one has a dresser. And yet everything seems right with the world.
This is the fifth time we’ve moved in less than two years. The fifth move since we sold all of our stuff. The fifth house filled with other people’s generosity. You’d think that would lead to a life of awkwardness sprinkled with a heavy dusting of indebtedness but it’s not the case.
What we’ve found in living a life with very little stuff is freedom, flexibility, and faith.
This last move is a little unique, though. Instead of moving into someone else’s house full of their things, we’ve moved back into our house. I say it’s our house but that’s only a half truth. It belongs to Jeremy’s parents and we have no real ownership of it except in our hearts.
We spent a few good years in this house, have some of our best memories here. We found God, each other, community, and house church in these 1200 sq feet.
It’s far from perfect with little space and one bathroom. It’s outdated, the linoleum in the kitchen is pretty awful and there’s a serious lack of closets. But we love it so much.
When we realized the house would be available we didn’t hesitate, despite the fact that we would need to fill it with 100% of borrowed goods. We had little more to offer the space than suitcases and Legos but that wasn’t about to stop us.
So we put the word out. I never doubted for a minute that God would provide. He always has. When you spend a year watching groceries come in the mail every week, you learn to trust.
On our first night in the house we had almost everything we need. Beds, sheets, a few dishes, a couch to sit on, a TV to watch Men in Black. And the rest will filter in throughout the week.
These last couple of years have developed in me a rock solid foundation of trust. I’d say faith, but sometimes I think I’m still a bit shaky there. Faith is big and wide and has lots of hard to answer questions. But trust? Trust is simple.
I don’t have all the answers. If I’m being honest, I’m not even seeking them these days. I suppose it’s because I’ve found a contentedness in the simple things. Family, friends, laughter, sunsets. Cheese.
And there’s something about trusting God for the little things that makes me trust in the bigger things, the things I might never fully understand. In the meantime I’m not going to work myself into a tizzy trying to right all the wrongs, answer all the questions.
I’d rather sip coffee out of my borrowed mug, sit on the deck, and laugh with friends.
Because life is too short for tizzies, y’all.