Shedding

Growing up with an asthmatic mother who was allergic to anything with fur meant only one thing to me as a child- no pets. So I adapted. We had outdoor cats to catch the mice around our rural home. We had the occasional fish, which always, I might add, went belly-up soon after adoption. In middle school I became interested in herpetology- or the study of reptiles and amphibians- much to my parents' chagrin. I wanted a snake for a pet, and they humored me by enrolling me in a 4H club, hoping, I'm sure, that I would change my mind.

A number of months later, though, we had acquired a new family member. A baby boa constrictor, about one foot long, found its home within a nice terrarium in our playroom. I was fascinated when it ate, took it out to slither around on the floor on occasion, and collected its skin when it shed.

How did it know when it was time to shed? From my perspective I could see its scales begin to flake around the edges and its eyes cloud over. But did the snake know for the tightness, discomfort and inability to see clearly that it was time to rid itself of the old skin holding it back, and finally have room to grow?

In her book, Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, chronicles a seaside trip she took to enjoy a brief respite from the chaos and busyness of her life with a husband and five children. She beautifully expresses with love and grace the difficulties of life as a woman surrounded by people who need her morning, noon and night, and how she often feels drained and unable to fully meet the demands of her daily tasks.

She analyzes, and compares herself to, shells she finds along the beach.

"I mean to lead a simple life, to choose a simple shell I can carry easily- like a hermit crab. But I do not. I find that my frame of life does not foster simplicity. My husband and five children must make their way in the world. The life I have chosen as wife and mother entrains a whole caravan of complications."

What follows this quote is a searching.

A searching for ways to simplify, to bring peace, to those things in our lives that blur our vision. Like the snake, when we sense the tightening, the dryness, the inability to find clarity in our day to day living, we should realize that there's something weighing us down, clouding our view, denying us the blessings God wishes to give.

Shedding is not an easy process. Shedding requires work, time and friction, just as a snake has to rub against rocks or bark. But worthwhile pursuits in life often are not free. The cumbersome burdens we shoulder could be activities (even "good" ones), character traits, physical possessions. We live in a society where more is more, and striving for "less" is like swimming upstream. But as Anne Morrow Lindbergh asks, "How little, not how much, can I get along with?" What freedom it must be to take our families under our wings and teach them simplicity and peace, rather than hurriedness and stress.

My grace is sufficient for you

2 Cor 12:9

Are there things in your life that are weighing you down?

Imagine what it would feel like to shed them. Write down 3 things you feel you need to rid yourself of and work toward this goal.

Christine can be found daily at her personal blog: