The other day I was having a coffee at one of my favorite local spots and I noticed a man coming down the escalator carrying a box of parts - body parts. It happened fast but I think I saw an arm, a few legs, and a foot protruding from the top. I didn't get to look close enough, but I'm sure I heard a head bobbling around on the bottom of the box.
I thought to myself, it's not everyday you see a man walking down the street with a box of parts. I wondered where he might be going or what he might be doing with the many parts he was carrying? What was the purpose for all those parts?
Of course, these were manikin parts, just to clarify.
The man with the box of parts reminded me of a problem I often wrestle with, a problem Os Guinness calls, "privatization." Guinness writes, "Beyond question, the private sphere in modern life represents incredible freedom. More people can choose more, do more, buy more, see more, and travel more than ever before. The results may be chaotic or regrettable, but in opening up for us a world of our own, the private sphere provides an unprecedented chance to think and act independently." (The Call, p.156)
The problem is that we weren't created for independence but interdependence - many parts but one body. One purpose.
Guinness suggests we divide our lives into two parts - public and private. I think we divide our lives into many parts. We have our work life, our family life, our social life, our church life, our friends, our hobbies . . . one life divided into many parts.
I suppose the many parts of our lives aren't so bad as long as they work together towards the same goal. Abraham Kuyper once commented, "There is not one square inch of the entire creation about which Jesus does not cry out, 'This is mine! This belongs to me!'" Whether it's our work or family or friends or church activities - it's all God's. Many parts with one purpose.
Are there certain parts of your life reserved for certain things?
I'm working towards one life lived for one purpose - GOD. It's a daily thing. I'm not there yet. I'm learning it doesn't happen over night. It's a process that involves a repeated return to the foot of the cross and the persistant chorus of your life to be, 'Not my will, but yours be done.'
