Monday, April 7, 2014
It’s interesting how our parents’ experiences shape our lives. My dad was a young adult when the Great Depression hit. I’ll never know all the ways that experience affected him, but it did give him the tendency to save things. He wasn’t a hoarder—I don’t think… But when my sister and I cleaned out his house after his death, we found stacks and stacks of…things. Empty margarine tubs, electric cords that had been cut off appliances, way out-of-date canned goods.
I came into married life as a pack rat—inherited, I suppose, from my dad. To compound things, Bill has pack-rat leanings as well. About ten years ago, we decided to fight those propensities tooth and nail. We’ve done pretty well, I think, but I still have too many clothes. I’m always hoping my favorites will come back in style or that I’ll lose weight and fit into those cute jeans again.
Recently, though, God’s been reinforcing the “give and it shall be given to you” truth. When we hang on to things we don’t need, it’s either greed or fear driving that act. For my dad, I’m sure it was fear. For me? Umm…not so sure.