Thoughts about stuff

Sometimes I hear something and for some reason, it stays in my brain, rattling around until I can figure out how I will use it in my life.

One of those things is this: "cluttering up the path to God with stuff". Thanks to Dean Robin, this has been niggling at me since Sunday.

How much stuff do I have? Serious stuff. (For stuff, read "stash"). I have a stash of quilting fabric, a stash of yarn. My yarn stash is older, my quilt stash larger. I could add to it every day if I could afford it, and work to make sure I don't.

Why do we need stuff? Is it to prove we're here? Is it so some little piece of me will be left to the grandchildren I don't have so that when I'm just a memory, they will have something to remember me by? I have only a few things from my Amma, who I loved dearly and thought was absolutely the best Amma in the world. I have one little china dog with pups and a box made from Christmas cards. Not a lot, but every time I look at them (and I can see them every day if I want to), I can see Amma and her house.

Is it because we make our homes into singular museums, so that wherever we look there is a story?

I am sure that God does not care about stuff. He cares about us, and he wants us to care about Him and do his work. My question is: how do I make sure the stuff doesn't get in the way.