The Boxer rebellion

It’s not the load that breaks you down. It’s the way you carry it. CS Lewis.

Oh my aching back.

I fought the law and the law won. At least that’s true with regards to the Law of Gravity!

We completed the “moving” portion of our move the other day, and are now left with the task of unpacking all our worldly goods. I am beginning to believe it is incorrect to identify such things as “goods” as they seem to be having a bad effect on me.

The worst part is that I wasn’t all that involved in the heavy lifting. We had “relocation specialists” do much of the heaving and hoeing, and all we needed to do was mark off the boxes on the inventory sheet and direct them to their various destinations, but that was enough so set me to wheezing and hacking externally (with accompanying panic attacks internally).

Part of the problem we face is transitioning to a house half the size of the one we left. We didn’t down-size enough before we moved (although we tried). Also, we needed to pack up and leave a month before I was scheduled to retire, so our goods went into storage for a month – and our memories of packing details faded exponentially with each passing day. And finally, we had a mix of boxes that included old boxes from previous moves, borrowed boxes from friends, and gifted boxes from the moving company – each with its own label or marks of contents past, so not all cartons contain what they say they do.

Good heavens; isn’t that a picture of the human condition?

The result could be a lot of confusion and frustrations, of course, but life is full of those sorts of issues, so it is easier to simply work our way through our items one by one, eliminate the debris as quickly and efficiently as we can, and know that eventually it will all be taken care of. We have the essentials; that’s what’s important (and each other).

As CS Lewis reminded us, it isn’t the load we carry, but the way we carry it that breaks us down.

I find the load lightened significantly by simply being thankful each and every day for each and every blessing that comes our way.

I can too easily complain about mis-steps (and there were certainly a few of those); I could also grump about the mess, disorganization, or chaos we face. But the fact is our goods arrived. That’s a good thing. We have our essentials. That’s a good thing. The weather is warm (not hot), and dry (not raining). My back hurts (it’s true) but I have pain relievers our ancestors could only dream about. Everything in the house works (after I replaced all the worn-out outlets) and we were able to paint the interior more easily having no furniture to move out of the way; so what is there for which to be ungrateful?

I got up this morning and there was food in the refrigerator. There was coffee in the pot. There was hot water for a shower. There were clean clothes to put on. There was the world-wide web to explore. For which of these blessings should I wear a frown?

Life is good, even if messy – so I give thanks. There is none of this I deserve; there is none of this I have earned. I just happen to have been born in a world where anything short of awe and wonder would be an insult to the Creator.

So, like Paul and Silas in the days of yore, I am learning to give thanks for all things, good and ill, for that which does not kill us (we’re told) makes us stronger.

In the end, that’s good news; that’s good news for my retirement; that’s good news for my life; ultimately, that’s good news for my back!

Maybe giving away excess baggage is a good thing to do in this, our valley. It might turn out to be the best (and cheapest) medicine of all.