This morning I was thinking about the big pile of RT stuff I need to move tomorrow to a new campus. I already filled up a 15 passenger van with one load and dropped it off. After assessing what remains, I think it will take about 8 more loads. Luckily, I think there will be a moving van to help tomorrow. Why am I holding on to all this stuff?
Our possessions are sometimes linked to our identity. Right now, part of my identity is as a recreation therapist. Part of my job is teaching DBT skills and pairing them with recreational tasks. Since "recreation" is a broad term, this task can be anything related to movement, art, music, games- "everything but the kitchen sink." Well and in some cases, if I could figure out how to use a kitchen sink in an experiential activity, it would be in the pile too!
Do I really need the pile? Why can't I just bring myself? Aren't my ideas for recreational tasks inside me anyway? I remember one recreation therapist turned entrepreneur said he could keep a group engaged for hours with a single rope. He is great! Me? Not so great. I need props to compensate for personal insecurity. I need props to enlarge my memory. Seeing and touching an item helps me remember what I did in the past and what I can potentially do in the future.
I learn best through hands-on experiences-something to touch, something to hold in my hand. Being close enough to touch puts me in relationship with people, places, and objects. I form an emotional attachment to them. Material possessions also provide tangible proof of physical reality. But proof of what?
Proof we are successful financially. Proof we are a winner. Proof we are important. Proof we are happy. Proof we are good-looking. Proof we went places. Proof people liked us. Proof we are amazing people. Proof we exist and make a difference. Proof we matter.
Memorabilia sometimes provides tangible proof or worth, or at least that we existed. But so does every single item ever purchased by self or others. Getting rid of anything can potentially assault a person's sense of worth. But take it all away, what remains?
If we're still here on this planet, we have our body. Our body is a form of physical proof. Our body is the greatest storage unit of all. It has unlimited space. It is also a dumping ground. Our body stores our collective choices over the years, our good and bad habits. Our body stores our collective experience both good and bad. It stores our memories of relationships, both good and bad. memories of Our mind, heart, and gut store our values and how we feel when we violate them or they are violated by others. It keeps a perfect record of our transactions. It is physical evidence, tangible proof of who we are and what we have chosen to become. And others can see it-they see the external proof as well.
But even the body will eventually be taken away. And then what is left? What proof will we have that we existed, especially if our ashes are scattered somewhere on the planet?
Our spirit is a far superior storage unit. It brings the light and life. It stores the truth of what was, is, and is to come. It is an endless reservoir of living water for those who believe. It is the great purifier, cleansing by the fire of sanctification. Hardly a dumping ground! It is our life force-our energy. Without it, we are just an empty shell. Thankfully, no one can take away our spirit-ever.
How wonderful the promise of a resurrection! Both body and spirit will be inseparably connected through the atonement of Jesus Christ. The greatest, most amazing tangible proof ever! A material we will possess, not just a material possession. Like Thomas, we sometimes doubt and exclaim, "Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe." We want tangible proof. It's the great identifier of existence.
How wonderful to see the church video on the Savior's appearance in the Americas. It is another witness of the resurrected Lord. He invited all
"Arise and come forth unto me, that ye may thrust your hands into my side, and also that ye may feel the prints of the nails in my hands and in my feet, that ye may know that I am the God of Israel, and the God of the whole earth, and have been slain for the sins of the world."
Since resurrection restores the body to it's perfect frame, as a child, I didn't quite understand why Jesus was resurrected with scars on his body. I thought he would show up and say something like, "Here, look at my perfect body- this is what is in store for you!"
But it wasn't just about what the Father did for Jesus by raising only him from the dead. It was about how it was accomplished by the Father's sacrifice of the blood of His perfect unblemished lamb. It was accomplished by the pain represented by those scars. We are the scars! We are the marks. I live inside of the Lord's resurrected body for I am "engraven on the palm of his hands." That's me! That's my sins! He bears them. He wears them as the great symbol of our connection. We are inseparably attached to him.
I take upon His name in my efforts to seek connection with this holy being. I wear marks. They are not engraven on my body but I wear them on the outside, close to my body, in hopes I will connect to His presence. It reminds me of my great privilege to repent and be one with Him.
God knows we care about physical stuff. God knows we care about proof of our existence. He knows and He looks on us with great compassion as we value our earthly possessions and mourn their loss. He knows that seeing and touching items helps us remember what we did in the past and what we can potentially do in the future.
He loves us. But he wants us to understand who He is. He wants us to understand who We are. He wants us to become one with Him, his Father, and the Holy Spirit. It is the ultimate proof of connection and attachment. It is real. As real as any tangible possession.
