Tires, Talents, and Too Much Stuff

I overpacked. I knew it from the moment my dad and I began arranging suitcases and boxes like a game of Tetris in my little sedan. It was impossible to eliminate anything at this point. I couldn't leave behind any whole piece of luggage, and to go through and consolidate would require more time than I had at the moment.

We made everything fit without obstructing any windows. Success! But as I made the 16-hour trek and had plenty of time to ponder things, I began to feel embarrassed about the amount of possessions I was bringing.

My joy at greeting fellow missionaries upon my arrival in Abbeville, Louisiana was tainted by the thought of carrying and fitting all of my possessions into my new home (read: room). I chose the items that needed to go inside—summer clothes, personal items, musical instruments and technology. Then I arranged the remaining items in my trunk—clothes and shoes for our November foreign mission trip, some papers and mementos, and a large box of art supplies.

It strikes me funny that I have come from a world where having too little—not too much—is what generally causes embarrassment. What a strangely interesting group of people I have come to join, who prefer less to more. And who, for the record, would not be so inclined to judge as I might make them out to be. But I digress.

I did well at avoiding embarrassment at my excessive possessions...for a total of two days. On Tuesday of my first week of training, we were to have a cultural experience in an evening of Cajun food and music. Some of us had volunteered to go early to the venue and assist with preparations. On the way back home, as we cruised along in conversation, there was a sudden rumble from under the car. We all knew—it was the dreaded noise of a flat tire.

As God's providence would have it, the passengers in my car were three guys—missionaries-to-be who found it an adventure, rather than an inconvenience, to change someone's tire in the rain, on a state route with little shoulder. I was relieved that I had a spare tire and knew where to find it. In the trunk...yes, the trunk that was still loaded with my excess stuff.

The first line of action was to empty the trunk. A suitcase, then a box (that was falling apart from the Louisiana humidity). A few other small boxes. A boot. And another boot. A mess of clothes hangers that had fallen out of their box. Well, it would have been less humiliating to have taken it all inside the first time around.

With everything moved to the front seat, we got the tire swapped out. The guys rejoiced in their accomplishment, and I said a prayer of gratitude for God's providence in the matter. Now my next line of action was to clear out my trunk.

Then next day I performed some more Tetris-like moves in an effort to make everything fit into my small living space. Since I again had easy access to my art box, I decided to put the supplied to use during free time and check some handmade thank you cards off my list. Card making turned into an event. People gathered around, and I was able to share my love of arts and crafts with my new community. I discovered that others shared my interest in hand lettering and handmade cards. It was a blessed moment.

Thankfully I had been forced to bring my art supplies inside where they could be put to use, instead of leaving them uselessly in the hot trunk of the car. I had brought extra things that I thought could be of benefit not only to me personally, but to the community as a whole. Why was I ashamed at what I had? Did I not realized that I had been blessed so that I could bless others?

I was led to meditate this week on the parable of the talents in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 25. I've always wanted to be one who used and invested what was entrusted to her by the Master, not one who buried her talent in the ground—or in the trunk.

We might be tempted to hide our talents out of fear, embarrassment, or false humility. All we've been blessed with—be it materially, spiritually, intellectually, musically, or otherwise—is meant to be shared for the good of those around us, for the betterment of the world, and ultimately for the furthering of the Kingdom of God.

As I get to know my new community, I recognize that we all bring varied and beautiful gifts to the table. These gifts, when cultivated and shared with others, bring tremendous, and sometimes surprising, blessings to the people around us and those we serve.