For sure Bill Nuff loved his wife Anida. Bill wanted the world for Anida, and Anida wanted the world. Seemed for Anida, Bill Nuff could never buy enough stuff. Perfect union, most thought. And why not, neighbors added, in the land of unlimited credit, just why not?
Early in the marriage, actually on wedding day, sitting in front of the mirror in that glowing fluffy white, adding that last dab of makeup before walking the aisle of no return, Anida had sworn, "I'll never be one of those gray sweats wearing ex-cheer leader wives, waddling through life like a caged duck out of water." Thus in her mind echoed this no-direction lack of Christian emotion to the inevitable conclusion of detached attachment. The void had to be filled... "Filled," cried Anida Nuff, "with more stuff.
But soon the train of buying things derailed budgetary reality. For no matter how well Bill's Plumbing succeeded, no matter the robust business net, no matter the credit cards of every nuance of rainbow color maxed to sky limit, Anida's lust for more stuff, cost more. Therefore, Bill stepped up. Bill's Plumbing morphed into Bill's Plumbing & Electrical Unlimited. And as Bill Nuff huffed and puffed enough hours to kill any man, the neighbor ladies of more stuff creed, all agreed, "What a man!"
And as the business grew, and grew, and grew, so did the stuff of Anida Nuff: designer clothing, summer and winter cottages, a new mansion on the hill, a bigger garage to house her dozen or so custom autos, and just plain old more expensive stuff, till stuff had no more space to be stuffed. Hence loving husband Bill built for Anida her very own warehouse outback. But as the business grew, so did the blood pressure of Bill Nuff, until his heart had had enough. Actually his aorta had had enough. Actually exploded with such force, Bill's lungs were shredded in the high pressure blast.
Sitting at the bureau mirror, adding that last dab of makeup, Anida had not noticed fatal explosion. Anida stood up, bent over for one last in mirror touch up, turned round, saw Bill, and hands on hips complained, "Bill quit laying there like your dead! I'm going shopping with or without you." Bill didn't budge. Anida sashayed over, bent over, removed his wallet and said, "Anida needs her money, Honey." Not till her return from shopping, did Anida's detached attachment become self evident. Bill had still not budged.
After the funeral, Anida drove straight to the mall. The spending spree lasted only as long as the insurance and business money. Soon foreclosed upon were the mansion on the hill, the summer and winter cottages. The custom autos repossessed. The business assets and warehouse of stuff auctioned off. But Anida found a new home of cardboard under the Constitution Bridge just outside Richland in Prosperity County. And although shoved without, Anida did not do without. She still collected stuff... all sorts of stuff... cans, bottles, pieces of misshapen wood, a sun bleached squirrel skull or two... all a clutter but no less useless as all the expensive stuff before. And so in Anida's false bliss... detached attachment ate on and on...
At the foot of Constitution Bridge, the north wind swirled the white hair of Pastor John, as he held tight Bible to chest... as he prayed, "Dear Heavenly Father, winter nears, please help Anida give up the idol of stuff, and span the void between You and her with the love of Jesus. We have a warm place for her at Pilgrim Way Mission, as long as Anida needs us."
...Why let possessions possess you...
...Only Jesus can fill the void...
Ecclesiastes 1:1-3; Proverbs 1:19; Mark 8:36; Ecclesiastes 12:7-14; Acts 2:37-38
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