A few years ago, I wrote about my purse. Many of you seemed to relate. For me, owning a purse requires close supervision of its contents, since I tend to forget where I’ve put an item or can’t easily put my hands on it. Compartmentalizing was a good answer–something smaller than a diaper bag, and with more pockets. Though for someone who works hard to be organized, even the pocket idea is not fool-proof. Which pocket did I put that in? Maybe voice-activated software would be useful—I can say, “pen”, and the correct pocket will vibrate, buzz, or talk back to me.
Today, with the new year in mind, I clean out my purse once again. I had discovered something floating around below the lining, and wanted to get to the bottom of it. Investigation revealed a hole in an outside pocket which led to the “basement area”. As I shook the purse sideways so that everything below the lining tumbled toward the hole, I thought how sad it is when a grown woman feels excitement over something like this, then has to write about it. How long had stuff been under there? What would I find? I pulled up my prizes–mints, gum, pennies, gum stuck to pennies, a cough drop, more gum pieces, something in a wrapper with the writing worn off, a small hand sanitizer (so that’s where it was), a thumb drive (I hadn’t even remembered losing it—scary memory thought), some keys…wait—I know I didn’t lose any keys! More investigation revealed another hole, this one in the key section. I was pulling keys from that hole into the first one. Pinning the fabric–the favorite option—was out. This was a needle and thread job.
As I stitched, I thought about my heart and things that could be flopping around in the bottom of it, things that should be immediately dealt with and put in the correct spot. Heavier items could definitely create the “holes”. Anger, bitterness, fear, jealousy–these caustic things, if not confessed and given to the Lord to dispose of, could work their way out of sight until they were forgotten and the urge to deal with them had waned. Then, without daily monitoring, small joys and encouragements might tumble in after them, unappreciated and also lost to sight.
It frustrates me to think that I repeatedly carry those heavy things, especially when I could go easily and often to the Lord during the day to unload them from my heart. How sad that it must take a few sessions of His wise and patient disciplining before I am ready to part with them, time better spent enjoying the glorious riches that He waits to give me. Maybe leaving those holes in my purse would be the best thing; it would remind me to continuously be checking the thoughts and contents of my heart.