Sold

It's gone.
I went home at lunch to meet a couple who wanted to look at my couch, and they bought it.
I said "you're taking it now?"
They said "yes."
"oh...I guess I didn't think it would be right away..."
They picked it up and carried it out and it's gone.
When they left, I sat down to listen to a message from Mary who had called when the couple was looking at the couch. I called her back and when I began to talk, my voice echoed in the empty room.
And I started to cry. I couldn't talk...it's sentimental, I didn't get to sit on it one last time...and it's gone. And, it's only a couch. But it represents so much.

Then, I read this on my friend Kristin's blog:
Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission, in his recent book wrote, "and charged his readers to be able to look the next generation in the eyes and tell them confidently, that we did not sit idly by, we gave up convenience and comfort to follow our loving God of justice into a world where suffering and oppression abounds, and did something."

And I cried some more. I cried because I'm a rich white American who cries when she sells her couch. I cried because I sold my couch and would never relax in its plush, deep loveliness again. I cried because everything is changing. I cried because I hope that I can look those I love in the eyes and say that I gave this up because I love Jesus, I believe in His Kingdom more than I believe in anything else in this world. I do it for those I love...I do it for those I have not yet met. I lay it all out...and down...in my empty echo of an apartment.