Make Purses For Yourselves

Crossing Boulevard with Rev. Rachel


Sometimes our hearts provide the receptacle; other times, our conscience. Point being, baggage requires a bag and maybe that which we use to carry the things wecarry is worth pondering.

Advises Jesus:

Make purses—the kind that last (v.33). There is the messenger bag; that small collection of clutches, too. But I don’t carry a purse. No need to harp on the metaphor, Rachel, I hear. Get to the gospel of the matter…to the bit about unfailing treasure (v.34).

We hadn’t seen each other since she made a winter day trip to Richmond. The time before that was her wedding weekend. Winding my way up Harts Mill Road, it hit me. These twenty-four hours would be soul food.

First, the orchard. The man with the bushel baskets slowly pieced together who Katherine was and wasted no time when it came to reminiscing. Roy was farming back then too, working nights at the hospital, sleeping a meager three hours so as to educate the children now grown and undoubtedly his pride and joy.

Next, a hike. The wall made of stone still whispered civil war secrets. The cows seemed no more approving of our silliness. But talk of recipes and vocation, good books and our respective struggles—it was anything but same-old. Back at the house, Bob let the Stephen Ministry folks know he would be absent. Penny fired up the grill.

Come 7:30, we feasted. No one left the table until we had covered everything from Elsa’s lack of traction (the family bird dog) to how it is that a blood drive is the stuff of Christ-shaped service. Katherine came up with the idea of making booties from a no-slip carpet pad as Dr. Dart thanked the Lord that I was not the priest of St. James (so I imagine).

I couldn’t help but wonder why these people let me into their lives all those years ago. I was also reminded of how I can be my own worst enemy, failing to carve out time for precisely the things that convey the grace and goodness on which my being and doing depends.

I’ve got half a mind to toss the carriers that are of no help when it comes to treasuring what matters. Maybe I’ll do a little crafting. In any case, a purse check, friends: How about it?