Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 4:13
We are moving. As usual around here, I am simultaneously on a deadline, a circumstance for which I am grateful. As I sit still painting, my family is busy deconstructing our once-beautiful household, stuffing it piece by piece into a pod.
Of course, not everything makes the cut. Moving is expensive. We are shedding as much as we possibly can, selling the big stuff, and carting boatloads of paper to be recycled. The bin sits as staunchly and contentedly as a buddha off to the side of the sweet little elementary school where my son has been taught for the last six years, accepting these papers—each, a page in the story of my life—without hesitation.
For me, paper is the biggest problem. Every scrap to which my child touched pencil, crayon or brush holds a spot in my heart. I saved most of it, and Gray, an artist, has always been prolific. There are boxes upon boxes, all neatly labeled. Soon, there will be fewer boxes, and they will be lighter.
Our family's other struggle in the realm of paper has been over my eight Bible Study Fellowship binders, each weighing in at well over five pounds. All of that wisdom, so much learning. I agreed to let go of my handwritten notes, and my 225 question and answer sheets (made heavier by an embarrassing amount of graphite and ink), reducing the load by half. But for some reason I can't part with my smaller binder, the one I used to organize my role in leadership at BSF. Held together by scotch tape and hope after years of hard use, it looks like trash. There's nothing much on the inside, either: contact info for my beloved fellow leaders, much of which is sorely out of date; little to-do notes I scribbled to myself on the divider pages, which are torn and falling out; the materials I needed to present the introduction class to new members. That mess of stuff I will keep. Surely, we can find room.