A friend passed along a bag of clothes that included
a perfect-for-fall, mustard-yellow purse.
I switched purses on
the way home from church.
No need to delay.
And now when I see my friend I wonder
what she thinks when she sees me with the mustard-yellow purse
that is now a messy, bulging, mustard-yellow purse.
It needs cleaned out – always.
At present there are game pieces, and an entire container of
gum pieces floating around in there, two wallets, receipts, papers,
granola bars, makeup bag, travel deodorant (for when I forget),
a myraid of pens and lotion.
In short: a mess.
She doesn’t know the extent of the mess
of course, but I am guessing she has a good
idea from the way the purse bulges
and looks heavy – because it is.
And I wonder if she thinks to herself:
“That purse isn’t meant to carry all that!”
Surely, a good portion of what is in
there is unnecessary.
And it just makes the bag
so very heavy.
I know that I need to unload
some of the items and
that my shoulder will
thank me if I do.
And I wonder if there are other things
that I carry, unnecessarily.
Does the one who made me look at
me and think,
“She doesn’t need to carry all of that.”
He actually knows all that I carry.
Knows every little thing I hold on to:
pride, anxious thoughts,
what so-and-so said,
unforgiveness.
There are things I am meant to hold:
creativity, joy, love, peace, hope
but the mess of the other things
means I have to dig really deep to find them.
I look for joy and grab onto
anxious thoughts instead.
I reach for love and since I get to unforgiveness first,
that’s where I go.
I need to do a daily inspection
so that what I am meant to hold,
doesn’t get buried by what
I am not meant to hold.
What am I not meant to carry?
Lay it down, unload it,
give it the one who
waits for me to hand it over.
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