I wrote previously about my thoughts as I moved my few worldly possessions into a storage unit. I want to take a post and talk about the conclusion to those thoughts

At the time I questioned the impulse to keep things and wondered if I might be being materialistic. On the other hand I thought I might be finally getting a permanent home shortly, and didn’t want to do anything rash. Here’s how the story ends.

I was right. After I arrived in Kansas I was offered a fully furnished private basement apartment. All of my fear of perpetual transition, and my willingness to live as a vagabond were proved unwarranted and unnecessary.

But I was also right that I was being materialistic. There’s very little doubt in my mind now what I should have done “sell everything and follow”
I’d keep what I used daily to live, a few changes of clothes, and a couple irreplaceable things like my grandfathers stamp collection, nothing that wouldn’t fit in the back of my car.

I know that sounds radical. That’s because it is. But I don’t think it’s radical in a bad way

At the time I was willing to leave everything, but I thought that would mean giving up hope of a home as a “place to put stuff”. And I thought doing that… pushed it. I wanted to be sure that God had called me to that before I became another weird Christian who was glorifying homelessness for no reason in particular.

What I never considered in this ridiculously overzealous hyper intellectualized brain of mine was the possibility that God might provide.
That perhaps I wouldn’t need dishes, not because I’d never get my own kitchen, but because there would be an old couple in Kansas that would give me dishes.

I’m still learning the voice of God, and I’m confident now that impulse was it. If I’d listened to it I’d have saved $140 in storage payments made money instead. It would have taken me no more time then moving 3 times did, and caught the attention of people in Cali, probably helping our fundraising efforts (I know I’d me more likely to support a missionary if I happened to know he sold everything to give)

As it stands I still have a reasonably happy ending. God’s good, I’m home and this way I get to keep my stuff. But I have way more than I need, and I believe there are blessings I’m missing out on because I failed to trust.

Here’s to doing better next time!

May you listen to the righteous impulses you don’t yet understand in your lives.