February 10, 2003 

PACK RATS

They're a special breed. The ultimate recyclers, they hate to throw anything away. Every time they try, a little voice inside says, "Maybe some day that will come in handy." Buying something new is always seen as an extravagance and an admission of defeat.

Carl Seline was a classic. His garage was full to overflowing with treasures. By the time I came to know him, the treasure-trove had spilled over into the backyard. Except for a few strategic pathways, the yard was full of objects with glorious potential.

Non-pack rats would call it all JUNK, but I identified with Carl. Whenever I needed an object to do repairs at the church or at home, I'd call Carl first. He'd usually say, "Yeah, I've got one of those somewhere; come on over and we'll look." Once, one of the toilet tank lids at the church fell off and broke. I went to Carl's house, and he walked me to the toilet-tank-lid section in his department store, and there neatly lined up on edge were about a dozen of different makes and styles. One of them was just right. I couldn't have done that shopping at Home Depot.

Carl replenished his stock every Saturday, when he made the rounds of the yard sales. He bought and he bought. He would fix up broken lawn equipment and tools, spray them with his signature aluminum paint, and place them at the right location in his garage or yard.

Some of the people who have been around ABC for a while will tell you that I am not exaggerating. Carl went home to be with the Lord a few years back. I'm sure God has provided him with a few celestial yard sales and some place to store stuff. You never know, maybe someday it will come in handy. The Lord will know where to find it when he needs it—in Carl's yard.

Some people are pack rats when it comes to life experiences. They believe that God is not wasteful, and they believe every little episode in their life should be stored away toward a future divine purpose. Others seem to have a throw-away approach to life, taking each experience as an opportunity that is brand new. They seem to be able to put the past behind them as "water under the bridge."

Not so with pack rats. They cherish the most tarnished, smelly old life experience as valuable for an unknown future purpose. Maybe someday that will come in handy.

When I was in my teens, brass band music was my main hobby, outside of school and thinking about girls. I played tuba in the high school band, the little church band, and a old-style community band that played concerts and marched in parades, all at the same time.

Currently, I have a beat-up tuba that has been gathering dust in the garage for years. It's a unique-style instrument made almost one hundred years ago, and I've had several people ask about buying it. Are they kidding? Maybe some day I'll have the opportunity to be involved in a brass band as an outreach to youth. I would be ready to do tuba-evangelism. Wouldn't I be sorry if I'd sold that old horn?

As a kid, I also loved nature, animals, books about the jungle, visiting zoos. So when I went to college and had to choose a major, I opted for Biological Sciences. I really enjoyed it and even considered graduate work in the field toward a career in college-level teaching and research. Instead, I went to seminary and became a pastor. But I've saved all my biology books. I can see them from my desk, where I'm writing. I know they're all out of date, since the field has changed dramatically. But I wouldn't think of throwing them out. Who knows? Maybe some day they'll come in handy.

There are other life experiences I can't talk about as freely. They have involved hurts, dead-ends, unfulfilled dreams. I keep them in my backyard as well. Every once in a while, the Lord asks me to minister to someone with similar baggage. I'm often able to find a tool in my yard that works as well for him as it once did for me. At times like that, I'm glad I haven't thrown away that old junk.

Now that I think about it, I guess I'd qualify as an emotional and spiritual pack rat. Just call me "Carl." After all, you never know what pain, or frustration, or depression, or rejection might come in handy some day.

(By the way, I'm thankful that my wife is enough of a pack rat to keep me around for 43 years, just in case . . . . Some day I might come in handy.)

–Pastor George Van Alstine