The other day, I emptied out my purse onto my desk at work to see exactly what kind of monster I had created. I took everything out of each of the separate bags within a bag (except for the contents of my wallet) and assembled them together to make something that very closely resembles a hidden object picture. How many different things can you find?
The result made me feel both pride and disgust. I was proud that I carry around with me the equivalent of an uber Boy Scout, prepared to assist with any need that may arise. I was digusted that I felt like I couldn't do without any of these things. I also could not believe how many things were actually in my bag. I like to think that I don't like to be cluttered up with stuff in general, but looking at this picture, I feel like I have been lying to myself about that. It makes me feel like an imposter.
What could I possibly need with so much stuff? Is it all important? Why do I need it with me all the time? What does it say about me that I draw security from having all of this stuff with me whenever I go? Has this mom-purse become for my an idol that replaces God in where I draw my security from? Who and what do I ultimately rely on?
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