Sunday, March 7, 2010

it's only temporary

Knowing that, in seven months time, everything familiar will disappear from an airplane window has given me a unique and wonderful perspective on what is important. What little I can take with me becomes infinitely more valuable than everything that I must leave behind. Not that I am living in an bare apartment with milk crates for furniture, but my furnishings do reflect the temporary nature of my living situation. I have not decorated in the same way as I would if I were planning to grow roots.

This anomaly has made my decisions clearer and simpler. There is no opportunity for situations to needlessly drag on, no chance for anxiousness to turn into sin. It is startlingly easy to compromise convictions when one is comfortable where he is. We are often obsessed with maintaining the status quo and avoiding change. But because I have big changes quickly approaching, the status quo does not concern me. I can discern right from wrong and act accordingly, because I don't have the luxury of time to cloud my judgement. I can make the decisions of a better man. Pain is not dampened, but the temptation to defer it for as long as possible is.

My future is invested elsewhere. The more I think about this situation, the more I believe this is how we should see life in general. Life here is impermanent. The more we are invested in heaven, the less concerned we will be about what doesn't really matter. Our roots should be just deep enough that we don't fall over under our own weight, lest when it comes time to be transplanted, we are unable to budge. Look around at how you have chosen to furnish your life.
But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where theives do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Matthew 6:20-21