Boxes are an everyday part of my life. I anticipate receiving a box or two when a delivery truck turns down my street. I have tucked away boxes in closets and attics, and promptly forgotten their existence and the items they hold. I have packed more than I dreamed possible when I moved from one home to another or closed up the home of a lost loved one. And, like the childhood toy that was delightful and terrifying, I’ve fought to break out of a few boxes in my lifetime.

Boxes evoke all kinds of feelings. Let’s talk about them.

The Moving Box

A friend of mine is moving. I suppose I should call her the mother of a friend, but I won’t. She’s my friend, too.

She is tired of boxes. She’s tired of packing boxes, stacking boxes, moving boxes, and unpacking boxes. She’s tired of not knowing what is in what box, and whether the whatsit she needs is in a box that’s been moved or still at the old place.

She reluctantly accepted the need to move from her beautiful home of 50+ years to a retirement community. Over the last few weeks, her family has helped her decide what to take with her. They’ve packed up books, clothes, and whimsical whatnots. And they’ve left behind others to be passed down, donated, or otherwise dispersed.

My friend is an indomitable spirit who will live a fruitful life no matter her location. The new place is lovely and offers all sorts of perks and opportunities. But it doesn’t feel like home. Not yet. The house she left is filled with images, sounds, and aromas that can’t be packed in a box.

The Memory Box

I share some of those memories. Her family rebuilt their home after a horrible tornado, but not before her kids had a couple of slab parties where we scrawled our names on the sheetrock. We went away to college and reunited at her house during our breaks. We crammed as many teenage bodies as possible onto her sofas and overflowed to her floor. I remember loud laughter in her den and quiet conversations on her porch swing. When I recall her advice, I see myself and my best friend leaning against her kitchen counter, soaking in all the wisdom we could. She was always interested in our lives and listened avidly to the philosophies and theories we freely spouted in our late teens.

All in this house.

The Jack-in-the-Box

Right now, in the midst of her move, she feels discombobulated. She’s thinking, watching, and working through what life will look like in this new place. She’s taking things out of the boxes and finding new places for them.

When she’s ready, she’s going to surprise us all. She’s going to spring out of her box and make a difference in the place she’s in now. Because you can’t keep a Jack in a box for long. God is always doing a new thing with us–and our stuff.

Behold I am doing a new thing. Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

ISAIAH 43:19 ESV

In a particularly rough season of our marriage, my husband and I talked about leaving where we were and starting over. We thought relocation could solve our problems. We realized quickly that wherever we went, we went with us. We couldn’t leave behind who we were–our struggles, our quirks, and our memories. We’d discover that they could be hidden away, but they were always with us.

Those are the knickknacks and the doodads that make us who we are, and they come with us wherever we go. They can’t be packed in a box.

That’s good news. And bad news.

Come Alongside

What sort of boxes do you have sitting around? Are they helping you or hurting you? Are they depressing you, suppressing you, and messing with you? Do you have things in boxes that have been there far too long?

Ask God to show you what you’ve put in a box that he wants you to bring out into the light.

Search me [thoroughly] O God,

Test me, and know my anxious thoughts;

And see if there is any wicked or hurtful way in me,

and lead me in the everlasting way.

PSALM 139:23-24 (AMP)

I’d love to hear from you. While we’re talking about boxes, let me know if you had a Jack-in-the-Box in your childhood–and whether it delighted you, terrified you, or something in between?

I have more thoughts about boxes, but those thoughts can wait for another blog.

I hope to see you along the road,

Christi