The love of worldly possessions is a sort of bird-lime, which entangles the soul, and prevents it flying to God.
~ St. Augustine
A few months ago, my husband rushed through the door, asking if we had a suitcase.
With a feeling of foreboding, I led him to our modest luggage collection. With his charitable impulses, I knew he was looking for one to give away…
“I just gave a homeless gentleman a lift. He was hobbling on crutches and lugging his belongings in a broken suitcase with no wheels, on top of a shopping cart. When we arrived at his destination, I realized he had no way of transporting his items alone. His friend is going to pick him up soon, I need to get back!” he explained.
Grudgingly, I opened the cupboard door and picked out a blue suitcase.
“The handle of that one is stuck! We can’t give him a broken one! What about that one?” he asked, pointing at an expensive maroon one.
“No! That’s from my mum!” I exclaimed.
“Then what about that one?” he asked, indicating my favorite suitcase, festooned with hearts.
It had been a hand-me-down from a neighbor and was our roomiest suitcase, but at least it hadn’t cost my mother anything…
I hurriedly emptied the suitcase of various odds and ends, then surrendered it to his waiting hands.
“But aren’t the hearts too girly?” I ventured halfheartedly.
“As long as the suitcase works!”
Turns out the gentleman was delighted with the hearts. “Do you know what that means? LOVE!” he cried.
“You are a woman of God,” my husband praised me later.
“Well, that man was Jesus,” I replied.
A few months went by…
“Where is the gold chain that my mother gave me on our wedding day?” I asked.
After several frantic nights searching, I remembered that I had tucked it away in the inner pocket of the suitcase while moving house.
“That was from my grandma! That was the only tangible thing I have left of her!” I wailed.
Several days of grieving for the chain went by. I tried to remind myself that I hadn’t even liked it, let alone worn it or remembered exactly what it looked like, and two months had gone by with me completely oblivious to its loss and perfectly content without it. But now that it was missing, it took on a greater importance than it ever had when I still had it stowed away in the back of a cupboard.
Consider how much more you suffer from your anger and grief than from those very things for which you are angry and grieved.
~ Marcus Antonius
We were watching Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1954) on Disney+, wherein Captain Nemo revealed that he used gold treasure as ballast. To him, it was utterly useless, only good for weighing down his submarine so that he could access the natural treasures of the deep sea.
Upon reflection, I decided that I still had the most important heritage which my grandmother had handed down to me — my Catholic faith.
Furthermore, it was better to have the gold chain out in the world doing good (hopefully allowing the crippled man to acquire some food and shelter) than sitting on a shelf doing nothing. As my mother said, “Let the poor person have it! He can make good use of it!” It was as if my grandmother was still performing a work of mercy from beyond the grave.
Finally, if I truly believed that Jesus was present in that poor man, I ought to be glad that I had a chance to return to Him a fraction of the overflowing bounty He has bestowed on me throughout my life.
It was also an opportunity to practice forgiving my husband for innocently causing such an upset. To tell the truth, my anger and frustration with his impetuous munificence bubbles up at odd moments. But he gave that suitcase away out of the goodness of his heart, a selfless generosity which attracted me to him in the first place!
Besides, I did once try to become a Franciscan, leaving all my worldly goods behind and taking the vow of poverty. It was quite liberating; and if I can get a handle on my vexed feelings about this darned chain, what glorious freedom that would be.
Live in the world as if only God and your soul were in it;
then your heart will never be made captive by any earthly thing.~ St. John of the Cross
At the precise point where we refuse, growth stops.
If we hold tightly to anything given to us,
unwilling to let it go when the time comes to let it go
or unwilling to allow it to be used as the Giver means it to be used,
we stunt the growth of the soul.
It is easy to make a mistake here,
“If God gave it to me,” we say,
“it’s mine. I can do what I want with it.”
No. The truth is that it is ours to thank Him for
and ours to offer back to Him,
ours to relinquish, ours to lose, ours to let go of —
if we want to find our true selves,
if we want real life,
if our hearts are set on glory.
~ Elisabeth Elliott
