I grew up dusting and sweeping and vacuuming around my mother’s seemingly endless array of stuff, vowing to myself from a young age, When I grow up I will never accumulate so many things and I will never-ever-ever spend so much time cleaning. Regularly purging my life of undesirables, I didn’t learn until later how weird my college classmates thought I was for wearing the same cords and the same two shirts (on alternate days, of course) as I rode my bike the eight miles to school each day. It made total sense to me. Yep, from day one I was a minimalist at heart.
But that didn’t make me a Jesus-minimalist. Continue reading