Things have felt pretty busy and hectic lately. While driving home from work today I had an overwhelming desire to go for a long drive on a deserted country road. I’m longing for simplicity, but it seems the more I long for it, the more it eludes me. But I think it is nearby, whispering quietly.
Recently I entered a deserted barn on thirteen acres by itself. The contents of the barn were many: a couple of old vehicles, some antique tractors, a really cool wagon, old farming equipment and loads and loads of garbage/trinkets/household items. I explored for a bit and returned home, wanting to know the story behind some of the items found.
How did these things come to be there? What was the story of the lives who used the items? Honestly, it made me curious and sad. It had the feel of tragedy to it. Why else would these things, some of value, come to be there? And have the owners completely forgotten them and the barn itself and its thirteen acres?
I want to think about this in spiritual terms. Do we have barns stuffed with stuff we don’t want to deal with? What sorts of interesting things are in my barn, in your barn? Barns should be places of bountiful harvests, not deserted places of valuable things forgotten.
I wonder what sorts of things spiritually I’ve forgotten. And what kinds of things have I thrown into the barn just to get it out of my face so I wouldn’t have to deal with it?
I don’t know. However I do know this, if I don’t sort through the barn and find the God-good, the enemy of my soul will not hesitate to break in and steal things of value.
I need to explore my barn. How about you?