A Lesson at the Bottom of the Ocean

So, we are in the process of getting rid of stuff.  Stuff we have accumulated over the years...some sentimental, some valuable, some...well, just stuff.  Most of this has been relatively easy.  Often the memories are the toughest to deal with.  Stuff that belonged to one of our parents or even grandparents.  Like my mum's old leather handbag - every time I look at it I see her digging for her lipstick or a comb or a tissue - how does one get rid of that?  But I did...and, indeed, we have to.  We cannot take this stuff with us to Gambela and we cannot store it here and we cannot shove the stuff onto our children.  We must lighten the load and go out like the disciples of Jesus - with nothing extra.

The hardest thing right now?  Our bedroom suite.  It is a work of art.  Indian Rosewood with brass Indian figurine inlays.  But it is big and bulky and heavy and...just not something we can ship over to Ethiopia.

Strange, but we almost feel as if we are liberating ourselves.  With each new item set aside, sold, given away, or thrown away, we sense a feeling of relief.  One less thing to carry.  One less thing to lose.  One less thing to care for, worry over, protect...

And in the midst of it all, I found this story...it is entitled: A lesson at the bottom of the ocean

Once you read it, you will understand.  It is a lesson for us...all...