“He thinks less than he talks, and slower; yet he can see through a brick wall in time (as they say in Bree).” *

Mr. Tolkien didn’t know me; really, he didn’t.  But he described me fairly accurately in the quote above.

I do talk more than I think.  Sometimes.

And, fortunately, I can see through the brick wall in front of me.  Eventually.

I’ve been in a funk recently.  I should mention that I looked up the phrase “in a funk” online to be sure it was still in common enough use for most of my readers to know what it means.  The obliging AI response suggests I’ll not have to explain it to very many of you.

I also wondered if I should use the term “woebegone” to describe my state of mind.  But then, I’d need to explain the word’s origin from Old English.  I might even have to use the definition that Garrison Keillor (a well-known storyteller and humorist) frequently gave for the fictional community he told about.  He said the name Lake Wobegon was the native American word for “the place where we waited all day for you in the rain.”

But I’m not sure the description of my state is all that important.  I just needed to know why I was in that state, be it in a funk or woebegone, or both of them at once.

Finally, the light has begun to dawn.  It took a while, but after a few weeks of wandering in the fog, I think I finally understand why I’ve been unhappy.

The Lovely Lady who lives at my house helped me along the way the other day when she expressed amazement that I’m keeping up with my schedule pretty well.  I usually get overwhelmed when there are too many events in a week for me to remember (usually, more than three will do it for me).

What she didn’t realize is that it’s been busy enough lately that this old man has actually learned how to use the calendar app on my smartphone for something other than keeping track of the birthdays of people I love.

As she talked about my schedule, and I thumbed through the past couple of weeks of events, I think I noticed that brick wall becoming a little translucent.  I could almost—but not quite—see through it.

The things in my calendar are almost exclusively about possessions—things over which I claim ownership.  Some of them are about money and insurance for the things I think I own.

And, with that thought, the bricks become completely transparent.

Why did Jesus say that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven? (Matthew 19:24)

Why is it so hard for me to give up my claim to the stuff of earth?  The rich man in the reference above was scrupulous and unswerving in his obedience to God.  With the rules and legal requirements, he was.

He just couldn’t turn loose of the things he held.

The storms of a few weeks ago have damaged our house, as well as our vehicles.  The unexpected mechanical failure of both vehicles right before has already required a fair outlay of money to remedy.  And now, dealing with contractors, insurance adjusters, and repair shops causes stress—a lot of it.

It’s not that the resources haven’t been provided.  They have.  But somehow, I’ve taken ownership of those resources.  And, I don’t want to let go of any of them.

And God said to Moses, “What’s that in your hand?”  And when Moses answered that it was a tool of his trade, his staff, God said, “Well, throw it on the ground.” (Exodus 4:2)

I sympathize with Moses.  I hear the voice in his head arguing (the same voice is in mine).

“This is all I have for my livelihood.  I was counting on this to keep me alive.  Why would you want me to let go of it?”

Easy, isn’t it?

Just open your fingers.

Let go.

It was never mine.  Never.

Freedom isn’t only about not being under the thumb of someone else.  Chains are too often of the invisible sort, and just as likely to be of our own making.

When the stuff of this earth holds us more tightly than the bonds of His love, we are truly in captivity—carrying a burden He never meant for us to shoulder.

I’m better now.

Letting go. Again.

But, I’m realizing there will be more brick walls to see through along the road I’m walking.  I could use some help with the next one.  And the one after that.

I hope you’ll be willing to help.  But could you, maybe, not talk as much as I do?

And, think a little faster?

 

“One who cannot cast aside a treasure at need is in fetters.”
(Aragorn in The Two Towers, by J.R.R. Tolkien)

“Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold.”
(from the hymn, Take My Life and Let It Be, by Frances Ridley Havergal)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2025. All Rights Reserved.

*from The Fellowship of the Ring, by J.R.R. Tolkien.