By Lanie Dinecola
“Less is more.” The mantra my Mom has chanted to me for as long as I can remember. But hers was a gentle whisper often crowded out by the shouting masses that easily convinced me that, really, more is more.
Experience has proven that both are true.
The shouting masses were right - more is more. More things means more debt, more work, more stress, more worry, more sleepless nights, more furrowed brows, more tense shoulders.
But the gentle whisper spoke of a greater, deeper truth. Less is more. More time, more energy, more space, more freedom, more laughter, more moments… more Jesus.
Jesus’ call begins and ends with “Follow me”- simple as that and I read through the Gospels and I search out the disciples’ responses to Jesus’ call to discipleship I see a trend that laces through each of their stories – “and he dropped his nets,” “and they left their boats,” “and they followed him.”
These two words “follow me” slip over our tongues and out of our minds as if they hold no significance but they were two words that required an immediate and drastic response.
Many did not respond as enthusiastically as the disciples. There are several instances when the reaction looks a little more like “well let me say goodbye to my parents;” “let me just run home real quick and grab some stuff;” “when I’m finished here.” These are the responses I can relate to a bit better.
Over the past five years I’ve lived in both Wales and England and I have done my fair share of moving from house to house, place to place. Let me tell you - this gets real old, real fast! Over the half a decade I was away I managed to accumulate a lot of stuff. Clothes, jewellery, cameras, books, journals and even furniture! Over that time I became fond of a lot of my things. I had favourite things, precious things. I had sweet cards people had given me, little knick-knacks that maybe didn’t look like much but contained sweet memories. A little over a month ago I finalised my obedient response to God to move back to the place where my life story begins, Louisiana. As I began to pack my things for possibly the last time I felt a strong desire in my heart for less. For less stuff. Less clothes. Less shoes. Less books (well… more books!). Less of me.
It was such a heavy load. Carrying myself around on my journey with Jesus has been heavy. I’ve said, “Sure, I’ll follow you but you should know that I come with four suitcases, seven duffle-bags, five boxes, and that’s not including the emotional baggage!”
My experience of packing up my material things became an eerie illustration of this constant conversation I have with God. He whispered to me some pretty sweet somethings about the spontaneity and adventure of leaving it all behind and following him with reckless passion.
This letting go, this unpacking, this weeding out, this demolition of my life is not easy. But I believe that it is imperative that I emulate simplicity as a key design of discipleship and a journey with Jesus will find its expression first in how I choose to flesh out my discipleship. Will I allow myself to carry into new life all of the baggage of my old life? Or will I drop my proverbial nets and run hard after Jesus – barefoot, bag-less, with faith wild and hope untamed?
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