WORRY BAGS

How big can a purse get before it’s considered a suitcase? I think about that when I see displays of huge purses at stores (or thrift stores, as in this photo), then recall how I try to minimize what’s in my purse. I’m not sure when the standard modest purse disappeared. When I was in high school in the 1960s, when the “ratted/poufed/sprayed” hairdos were all the rage, a teen girl’s purse wasn’t complete without a big can of hairspray to keep her locks in lacquer. (Disclaimer: I didn’t do that.) And of course, that took up space.

I’ve tried to keep my purse-life under control. I can’t survive with just a wallet, keys, and my tiny no-frills $7-a-month cell phone. Add a small calendar planner and a little zipped pocket thing for lipstick and the like. When I weighed mine recently, it was a decent four pounds, complete. But I’ve been attacked by mega-purses, not because somebody thought I was going to rob them, but in other innocent situations—like sitting in church next to an empty seat.  Even though I usually stand up to provide more room for the passer, I’ve gotten head-bashed by somebody’s mega-purse that borders on the size of a suitcase.

I smile to think of it—and I remember a wonderful illustration about heavy suitcases given by Corrie ten Boom during her speaking tours. After World War 2 she was a guest at a little church in Japan, which was still reeling from the war. She decided to conquer the language barrier with an object lesson about how to pray. She dragged her heavy travel suitcase up to the speaking platform. Quoting 1 Peter 5:7 (“Cast all your cares upon Him”), she emptied her suitcase, putting the items on a table. Some, she said, represented her weary co-workers. Another was her next trip to a town where she knew nobody. Then came friends at home, recovering from an auto accident; a little boy who refused to trust Christ; then her personal problems, like unconfessed sin, pride, and worry.  All these she wanted to “cast on the Lord.”  Then, she said, “amen,” closed the empty suitcase, and began to walk away, swinging the now-light suitcase.

The people got her point—about casting all such cares on the Lord.

Many years later, in Berlin, she ran into a Japanese evangelist who remembered her “trouble suitcase” speech in his homeland. She was flattered that he would mention it. But he said he had one problem with her illustration.  Speech over, she’d reloaded her suitcase with her personal items and left the church, just as burdened as before. * That wasn’t the message she intended! But it was a reminder how she (and the rest of us who know that promise in 1 Peter 5:7) kept putting worries and cares back in the “trouble suitcase” instead of freely releasing them to God.

I have the same problem as I pray. My real purse may get its periodic “purging” and tidying up (I sure don’t want to be guilty of carrying a head-bonker purse!). But from time to time the Lord needs to remind me (as He did when I came across Corrie ten Boom’s story) that when I cast my cares on Him, I’m not to keep stuffing them back in my worry suitcase/purse.

Worry bags aren’t part of God’s plan for the growing, trusting believer.

*This anecdote was told in Jesus Is Victor, © 1985, compiled in Corrie ten Boom: Her Story (New York: Inspiration Press, 1995), pp. 472-73.

 

AND A POST SCRIPT:

When a student at Wheaton Graduate School in my early thirties, I met a remarkable young woman whose background by that time already included living with author Elisabeth Elliot (as a seminary student helper), and ministry with a well-known international evangelism group. She'd eventually marry a widower with three children (and add a fourth) and juggle family, writing, and a busy inspirational speaking career. Her name is Lucinda Secrest McDowell, and I recently received a copy of her latest (and 15th) book, Life-Giving Choices (New Hope Publishers, $15.99). This book reflects her practice of choosing a value-oriented word as a spiritual stake for the year, and highlights 60 qualities or decisions. It's intended to be a 60-day devotional guide, but I couldn't put it down and read it in a few days. (I will go back and read with more thoughtful diligence!) I was reminded of Mark Twain's remark that the difference between the right word and the not-quite-right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug. This book is full of "right words" to ignite spiritual examination and spiritual intention. On my computer I have posted the word "inspire" as a reminder of a daily choice I need to make. This book certainly illustrates that quality. I commend it as a thoughtful, Biblical, personal, and applicable addition to your spiritual disciplines.