I am truly a melancholy individual masquerading as a fun-loving extrovert. I spend approximately 30% of my time in another place. My mind wanders like a lost dog and those who are closest to me find frustration in this particular part of my personality. I admit it’s selfish to allow 30% of my time devote itself to wandering. I’m working on it.
There is just a lot going on. Not with adoption. This isn’t really an adoption post. Although that wandering combined with God’s prompting brought us to this place. This is, rather, a life post. Hence the title. Trappings are defined as the outward features or objects of a particular role or situation. This week, and many weeks before, I have pondered what my trappings say about my role in life. Specifically the place I love and occupy: home.
This is the first thing you’ll lay eyes on if you come to my house. An outward expression of me. Bright color, photos displayed in a semi-artistic attempt. A salvage find turned beautiful. It looks so good. And it should. We are a happy family, we make decent money, we love Jesus, we give, we love others. Our lifestyle should reflect well. We are a good family. Our outward features represent our place in life well. But what if we get a little too used to these things… to this home we’ve so carefully crafted. From paint colors to vintage furnishing sought out from flea markets and trash bins. So much effort for such a fleeting object.
At times I wonder if I would be more devastated or relieved if it was all gone tomorrow. And what if it were? Would we cling to our Father God and listen for his next direction or become consumed by the grief of loss. I really want the later to be our, my, story. We have never been a family that sought out the next and newest things for our lifestyle but something pretty nice has been cultivated for us while we slept. It’s odd when you wake up and realize you’re living the American Dream. It’s not necessary. I’m not sure anyone was ever meant to live this way. It causes us to rely on outside sources for happiness and contentment when we know good and well that we can never be content until we’ve left this world. Weird. We try too hard.
I don’t know what else to say. And friends; don’t think I’m judging you for your really nice house or cool SUV. My convictions are not for you to share. God calls us all in different directions. God makes us all sensitive to different issues. I have always had a hard time existing around here, and I’m hopeful that our family will experience a different kind of story.
Life and all her trappings, or, being trapped by what we are convinced life should look like.