Moving Out

You know, I never real­ized how dif­fi­cult it’d be to decide what to take to our new apart­ment, what to leave behind until we have a house, and what to just get rid of…

I’ve accu­mu­lated lots of li’l things which today have no value or use to me, and yet even many of them seem dif­fi­cult to part with. I don’t know why, and it is quite the annoyance.

Then there’s the stuff which, while they still have value and I may still use, now is the chance to leave them behind. The thought of 1 Corinthi­ans 13:11 swirls in my mind when I con­sider things like my myr­iad video games. My LEGO col­lec­tion is def­i­nitely being saved for my future chil­dren (boy or girl), but I’m not entirely cer­tain I want to pass the video game habit down. What I do pass down will be weighed against me at the Judg­ment, and what­ever I pass along I would pre­fer it be a wor­thy her­itage for the Lord. Besides, if the truth is told, video games have never improved my life but did much to take time away from other stuff. Per­haps to eBay they will go.

Yet at the same time, I am find­ing myself hav­ing weird feel­ings as I look at what I do pack: Is this the mea­sure of my life? Just a few boxes and some fur­ni­ture? Why is it so easy to mea­sure worth based on pos­ses­sions? Cer­tainly, I can­not take these things with me to Heaven, so they will be of lit­tle value to me before Christ. And I don’t parade my pos­ses­sions for all to see, so what value are they in the sight of man? And yet, I still notice at times that I judge myself by them.

If there is one thing I learned from Lutzer’s Your Eter­nal Reward, it is that it is pos­si­ble to trans­late our lives here into some­thing which will be of worth at the Judg­ment Seat of Christ. We can take our pos­ses­sions with us–you can take it with you when you go–but you have to under­stand what could be called Heaven’s cur­rency exchange rate. In Heaven, a dol­lar bill has no value; how­ever, the act of using that dol­lar to pro­vide a glass of cold water or a bite to eat to some­one who has none is an act which has great value in Heaven. Such an act, though unseen on Earth, is an act which Christ con­sid­ers as hav­ing been done to Him­self. It has great worth in Heaven, though on Earth it may go unnoticed.

So as I’m going through every sin­gle mate­r­ial pos­ses­sion I own, I force myself to think, How can I turn this Game Boy DS or Namco Plug-n-Play into some­thing of value in the com­ing age? Am I guilty of lay­ing up trea­sures here while bank­rupt­ing myself in Heaven?

Christ said to occupy until He comes, and He meant for us to be work­ing for Him. He was very clear on what He wanted us to do. We call it today the Great Com­mis­sion. For a small group of us, it has come to be known as the Pur­pose. In our efforts to ful­fill Christ’s com­mands, some­times we sac­ri­fice things–materials, money, pos­ses­sions, even friends or con­tacts. Like Paul, we ought to count our losses as gains, for that which we “give” to the King­dom here on Earth, we will be rewarded for in Heaven. And I am con­vinced that God will reward us above and beyond that which we would ever expect or hope for–not because He is under any oblig­a­tion to do so, but because He is mer­ci­ful and gen­er­ous beyond all man can fathom.

I rec­og­nize areas in my life which need to be sur­ren­dered over to His will for His work. And while it is dif­fi­cult to actu­ally fol­low through, with prayer I notice improvements.

My Dad often tells me that I’m going to be a preacher some­day, per­haps a great one. My first and mid­dle names, Richard Clark, together mean “a great leader and cler­gy­man.” And while I dis­agree with the “clergy/laity” sep­a­ra­tion, it is not a stretch to inter­pret Clark as “preacher” instead. I would love to ful­fill my name­sake (or to see Dad ful­fill his; I’m a Jr.). I’ve a long way to go.

At least, that’s the les­son I’m get­ting from mov­ing out to an apartment.