Clinging to... What?

We're entering an interesting time here at RVA.  I guess it's a yearly ritual - one of the quirks of living on a mission compound with a bunch of other people all in houses which aren't really their own.  The last few weeks, the housing committee has been meeting to discuss who will live where next school-year.  I (Jim) don't envy them.  They try to be objective - to look at family size and need.  They try to find the best fit for everybody.  It's interesting - do you make a family move who's lived in the same house for several years but no longer needs all the space because some of their kids have graduated?  Veterans of RVA have come to accept this: you can't expect to be in the same house for long.

Some people think that missionaries are 'good' Christians - I think this time of year is proof of our fallen nature.  There is sometimes-intense speculation on who will get the new house that's being built on campus... probably even some with (gasp!) jealous hopes.  People get possessive.  I get possessive.

I think as far as having to move is concerned, we're pretty 'safe.'  But still, I don't want to leave the house we've been in for the past 10 months.  I don't want to leave behind our big yard, the upstairs playroom or the freshly painted walls.  It's just now starting to feel like our home.  (The panicky feeling I get when thinking about these things demonstrates just how attached to them I am.)

The other day I was feeling a little anxious about all this after hearing somebody on the committee talk about how tight next year looks for available housing.  What if they ask us to move?

And then I felt strongly convicted about the whole thing.  Why am I so attached to this stuff?  What if I were that attached to the things that really matter?

My internal committee makes decisions about these things all the time:  Morning quiet time gets eliminated so that I can sleep.  Sleep gets pushed back to grade papers.  Papers get shoved back by homesick wanderings through my 'social network'.  Suddenly, I find time with God has been replaced by...  Facebook?  

What if I got that same panicky feeling when time with God was pushed out of my morning routine?  What if I was as attached to thinking about the world like Christ as I am attached to this old house that's not even ours?  What if my desire to know Him was as strong as my desire to know what's going on in the lives of people at home?

It's not as if I always make the wrong choice.  Sometimes my actions really do fit with those of the authentic Christian I want to become.  But not all the time - usually when it's comfortable.  Wouldn't it be awesome to be emptied of our attachment to stuff and filled with full dependence on Him?  I want to be that sort of Christian - clinging to Him.