Doilies and Dishes

Stony and I went with JJ and Vicki to see the Hobbit a couple weeks ago.  I did not have high expectations.  Actually, I thought it was going to be kind of stupid.  But…I was wrong.  And the first part, well a lot of the movie actually, got me thinking. 

The dwarfs and Gandolf are trying to convince Bilbo Baggins  to go on an adventure with them.  He is offended at all these people in his house.  He is frustrated with their actions and perceived lack of respect.  They are having a great time, signing, eating, drinking….and then even cleaning.   Biblo’s mood never really improves.  And he is adamant that he is not going with them.  He is not one for adventure.  He is not one to just up and leave his perfectly, comfortable home.

Then Gandolf asks him a question.  “When did your grandmother’s doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important?”  Inferring that they are more important than this invitation to a great adventure. 

Bilbo ends up staying frustrated and wanting everyone to leave his house.  Yet, you can tell that he is pondering that question.  When he wakes up in the morning, he is relieved to find his house empty and back in order—everything put in its place—none of his precious stuff disturbed.  Then in several blinks, he is frantic to pack his things and join in the adventure.

I can relate to Bilbo.  There are times when  things get “disturbed” in my house and I get all worked up about it.  I want things to be in the right place and be calm and not have anything unexpected happen—because even if  it could be wonderful, the if  makes me nervous. 

The question Gandolf posed to Bilbo was poignant.   I wonder, and have since been pondering, “When did my things and what things are so important to me that they are keeping me from an adventure…or even keeping me from being obedient?”  I have been wondering around my house picking out things that have been possibly holding me back.  And I have been asking God to let me see my stuff and just stuff. 

At the end of the movie, Bilbo has another great line.  “I have a home.  That is why I am helping you fight, because you don’t have one.”

I want my perspective to be one where my stuff doesn’t hinder my opportunities to bless/help someone else.  I don’t want my stuff, no matter how precious, to be more important to me than what God has for me.  Even if that means getting rid of some of my precious stuff…

“When did your grandmother’s doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important?”