Leaving Dad's house th other day I grabed a box and threw a bunch of papers from one of my Mom's desks into it (she had three desks). My dad started to object. I simply said "Journal." and he rolled his eyes and let me continue.
Our church published a small newsletter for a couple of years. It was well received with over 100 subscribers (not all of them relatives either!) But life went on and we discontinued it. We thought about reviving it a few times, but never really anything.
These papers off Mom's desk were her notes in preparation for future articles, notes for future Christmas programs, notes for future youth lessons, etc. Mostly pages from magazines and things printed off the internet. Or transparencies she had copied to use in the days before PowerPoint.
I let the box sit by my chair for a week or so and then began to tackle it a little at a time. Each piece I pick up brings back all the memories of her telling me about her plans.
There is a heaviness in memories sometimes. A weight that pushes someone down to the ground.
What do you do with a loved ones plans and notes?
Mostly, I threw it away.
I have my own projects, my own plans. they are different from Mom's. Even if I decided to do some of the same projects, I wouldn't use her notes and clips. I'd Google it.
So in the trash they went.
Our sin weighs us down even worse. God tosses those sins, that guilt and worry, into the trash can just like I did with ancient overhead projector slides.
Hebrews 12
1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.
2 We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.a Because of the joyb awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne.
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