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Today I’m thinking about things. Having them, wanting them, not having them, giving them away, becoming them. Sarah just left and she gets all up in my head and cranks my gears into overtime. Reminds me what it actually means to be a friend; active and engaging, bold and there.

On top of all this gear-turning and getting-going on the topic of things, the history of Alice in Wonderland makes me think that I might be some kind of old Alice lady down the road. The one who knows all there is to know about the journey that Lewis Carroll’s Alice has taken over decades. I’ll be the expert on the history of Alice. I’ll own all the versions of Alice, in film and in print. I’ll have a tribute library of sorts. With built-in custom shelving units, oh boy! And I can connect with people, albeit nerdy and issue-laden, like-minded and mildly obsessed. The Lord, if He so desires, will draw ones to these odd interests that are elected, destined, meant to be Christ ones and we will share in love and struggle and they will come to know their Savior by way of this sharing and this love. It’ll all be so tangible, real, happening.

And it doesn’t have to just be Alice, either.

Movies of all kinds, like the way Chisa and I talk for hours at coffeeshops and pancake houses. And we watch movies with gospel themes and talk about moral injustice and I get angry when characters adulterate the knowledge of right and wrong written by my God on their hearts. I cannot speak to these things apart from my love of the Lord. Nope. It’s all inexplicably tied together. We can rightly engage culture and perpetuate clubs of all kinds. Movie club, book club, clubs all over the blasted place. I’ll live as the runner of all sorts of clubs. Writing therapy…club? Can these things even exist?

Colored Shelves at Franklin and Institute

You see, I don’t actually want the things required to fill my libraries and run my clubs. I want the camaraderie and the relationship that fills the space between the members. I want the heart motivations that move the people to make the clubs. If I need to go somewhere, with something or with nothing someday, somewhere far away, I want to be able to go. I want to be free to be free from every bit of stuff I’ve acquired and go immediately anywhere if it’s what I know is right by my Savior. I haven’t ever felt deep inside tied to my things. Only deeply tied to the people who can be reached and moved and touched through these things. That’s all.

Truth is, when I see homes filled to the ceilin, looking like a Pottery Barn or William Sonoma catalog, I judge. I think those are people who have felt fleshly desires to have have have finer things of this world. I’m probably wrong. But on the slim chance that there’s truth in that, then I worry about the worldly truth in my own desires. Do I want want want what this world is selling me? Just a housejobfamily… a world of endless books and movies and media…?

How, then, can I have the space between the people in my dream Alice library?

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