packing

OK, random thought while opening a package recently: most of life is packing "peanuts" and they are there to protect the real product inside. Many, if not most, of life's experiences are packing nuts. Newspaper. Those new air bladders that I suspect are cheaper since they keep showing up more and more. Actually, the air bladders pretty much make the metaphor more nebulous and unfortunately more realistic. Most of life is just air, a la Solomon in Ecclesiastes. Our package, our life, has but one precious content, our Savior, our faith in God, our worship of Him, and all the other stuff is just packing - nuts, newspaper, air, bubbles - either protecting that precious cargo or just obscuring it from view. The more room the actual contents of the package takes up, the less packing material is needed, right? Are we the kind of package I saw at Christmas this year where one keeps opening another and another box until the tiny box is finally opened at the end? Or are we open packages, showing the contents for the world to see our God and the faith we have in a way that they can touch and feel and not just hear and wonder if it's the real thing?

OK, that's my random thought of the day. Radical, maybe. Do I do it the way I've suggested? Probably not. I'm pretty much a big old air bladder with just that tiny nugget of faith inside, hidden from all but the most curious of observers, but it's there, trust me, it's there.