Like the first disciples of Jesus who remained in hiding after the Resurrection, still living in fear, we continue to be in seclusion behind our own closed doors today. In addition to the binge baking, HH and I are packing our worldly belongings. We have about ten days to pack up our home in Illinois to complete our move to North Carolina.
Most of us don’t like what it means to move. It means deciding what to toss and what to keep. Moving from our first empty nest home where we were custodians of our young adult children’s stuff “until they could take it” means sorting through artwork, trophies, various sizes of ruby slippers, and an arsenal of Nerf weaponry in deep discernment.
Do we take their childhood memorabilia with us? Or do we simply take photos of the memorabilia?
Are we keeping the fine china and crystal? The kids don’t want it.
And the books. What does it mean to give away almost all my books for the sake of downsizing? The writing careers of Anne Lamott and Barbara Brown Taylor are now in boxes in my living room. Do I keep the Bible commentaries when I do most of my exegesis online now? Yes, we are keeping the autographed Harry Potters. No, we are not keeping all the anthologies of short stories.
Traveling lightly is a spiritual practice. I’ve seen The Darjeeling Limited enough to know this truth. Also there’s Abraham.
Moving – even behind closed doors – is an act of resurrection.
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
And let’s not forget that the risen Christ can enter even through locked doors. There’s no hiding when God wants us to move forward.
Image of our front door in Illinois on Easter morning.