This morning I have to unpack and re-pack. This is one of my least favorite activities. Re-packing is right up there with re-writing an accidentally deleted essay, adding two hours on to an hour drive after one missed turn, and combatting a snowstorm to walk to class.
All these experiences have one underlying truth: they are unnecessary.
This past week I spent in Blackey, Kentucky worshipping with a group of kids from the First Baptist Church of Waverly during their annual missions trip. My friend Jon spent one of the nights talking to the kids after leading worship. He focused on leading a new life, versus dwelling in the old.
New life is such a beautiful, peaceful, and exciting concept; but the threshold of a new life cannot be approached until the old is unpacked. Lately I’ve been convincing myself this is unnecessary.
It’s a painful process to unpack every grudge, insecurity, and regret; it’s not an overnight experience.
This is the season you’ve gathered a lifetime of patience and ruthless determination for. This is the moment I’m supposed to take all I’ve learned, and use my feet to push me forward.
What is unnecessary is living another day in an old, forgotten life.
Furthermore, every morning isn’t another moment to just unpack, but welcome in the beautiful light of a new life. If we’re pointed in the direction of joy there will be nowhere to walk but in goodness.
Life can be put in perspective and repacking becomes less cumbersome once one realizes he or she is headed towards an eternity of perfect peace and bliss.