Do you ever take the expectations of those around you–family, friends, foes, colleagues, and beat yourself up with them? Let your own assumptions sneak up into your emotionally tender spots and bite you? Paralyze you with the fear that you don’t measure up? Me too. Keep reading.
Drawers, cupboards, closets, sheds, and garages full of stuff. Unorganized excess. Baggage—emotional and physical saved for someone else to sift, sort, dispose of or save in an unbroken cycle of disorganization and distraction. We all come face-to-face with our stuff and sometimes we find ourselves buried in the stuff of loved ones. And yet . . . let’s talk about it.
We donate blankets to the homeless shelter and canned goods to the food bank. We pack Christmas boxes of hygiene and personal items for children around the world. We purchase goats or chickens for needy families in Uganda. All these good acts express love for my neighbors. Some of our neighbors. What about the woman seated alone on the far side of the sanctuary or even the woman who sits in front of me at the Sunday service? Week after week.