obsession.

As I sit here in what is about to become my previous living room, I can't help but notice the boxes. You see we have been packing for about a week now preparing to move and the majority of my earthly possessions are right here in this room. There are large, heavy boxes dwarfing the many smaller and more fragile boxes. They have instructions written on the outside like kitchen, master bedroom, garage. The memories that have been stored away for so long have been recently uncovered in an effort to downsize. I can only imagine what the garbage collectors must be thinking as the piles have grown day after day with discard.

As I sit here in what is about to become my previous living room, I am accompanied by the smell of cardboard. All of my possessions. All of my obsessions. In days of old men were not measured by what they had but rather who they were. Their word outweighed their stuff. They were known by their reputation not by their collections. But somewhere, sometime that all changed. Unfortunately we often measure success by our piles of boxes. We may have become obsessed with what we possess.

The scriptures refer to it something like this... where a man's treasures are... there is his heart. Maybe it is time for an obsession with confession. Time for obsession with compassion. Obsession with truth instead of perceived wealth. I wonder... where is your obsession?