By Kerri S. Wilson
I’m unpacking my things.
I’m looking, touching, feeling, and finding new places for each of them.
Many I’ve remembered; some I’ve forgotten.
Most I’ll keep; a few I’ll discard.
My things have been packed away in boxes.
Yet I’m ambivalent towards these things of mine.
I feel blessed and guilty—blessed by the memories but guilty for the excess.
They’re just things; they’re not my life.
But they’re from the life I’ve collected.
And now they’re part of the new life I’m beginning to collect.
So I’m looking, touching, feeling, and finding new places for each of them.
I’m unpacking my things, and I'm telling Him “thank you.”