It started a few Mondays ago. I was grabbing the trashcans when something large and red and plastic caught my eye—a cracked toddler “baseball” bat. Since no one had played with it in years, I grabbed it and shoved it in our mammoth garbage can. Just a few feet from the broken bat was a toy lawn mower. Our youngest is nine. He'd have to hunch way over to reach the tiny push handle. I grabbed its soiled little self and pitched it too. Oh, and the Care Bear knee pads my seventeen-year old wore when she was learning how to ride a bike, a Frisbee with a chunk missing and two flat, size three soccer balls. And even though I was rolling two industrial sized rubbish containers to the curb I felt lighter than I had moments ago when I was empty handed. It felt great to get rid of all that crap. It was all so big and useless and taking up space.
The next Monday a woman in my yoga class approached me as we were rolling up our mats and explained she was doing a shoe drive. “Do you happen to have any outgrown shoes you could donate?” She came to the right lady. I went home and happily stuffed a shopping bag with outgrown, worn gym shoes. I topped it off with dress shoes that were sported for only one Easter or Christmas. The next time I went to yoga, I happily handed over my bag, feeling like I had handed over some of my burdens—the last minute rush of helping someone find their shoes before church, the chore of straightening the constantly haphazard shoe rack, the inconvenience of tripping over someone’s cleats. Fewer shoes equal less clutter.
I was on a roll. The next Monday I had a plan of attack, I liked the pattern of decluttering that was taking place on Mondays, and I wanted to keep it going. This time of year the feeling is especially top of mind as I think of all we have, all the shopping I'm doing, all of the stuff that will flow in the door at Christmas. I grabbed one of those plastic grocery bags (the ones I feel so guilty about the bagger putting two food items in when I forget my reusable bags) and pulled open the “everything drawer.” Make that one of our “everything drawers”, the one dedicated to small, miscellaneous toys. I placed inside one plastic Dora, three bouncy balls, a singular bean bag, a light up shamrock yoyo, a tie-dyed duck and several other "treasures", tied the handle of the bag, took it out and fed it to the hungry trash can eagerly awaiting its snack.
The next Monday, no lie, I got an email from a fellow soccer mom asking for donations of sweatshirts for the homeless. Her son was doing a clothing drive for his school. I was so on it. If we have too many of something in our house, it’s sweatshirts. It felt wonderful handing her that garbage bag full of warm, cozy hoodies for people who would otherwise be freezing this winter. I wish I could say that was the only buzz, but there was also the thrill of getting rid of more stuff. Lessening. Unloading.
You see there’s way too much stuff in my house, in my garage, IN MY LIFE. Bob Goff, author of Love Does, gives something up every Thursday. Well, my new mantra is to get rid of something every Monday.
But there’s also too much stuff in my head, on my heart, on my to-do list. And I need to declutter these areas in my life too. They are blurring my true reflection, getting in the way, blocking who I am and who I’m supposed to be. So I’ve decided to not only to get rid of a tangible something on Mondays, but also an intangible. I need to politely respond, "no," to the email asking me to stuff goodie bags, although it sounds like a blast, but I know I have a conflict. I also need to delete the email begging for coaches for the school basketball team, even though they are desperate for a volunteer, because I don't have time. Also, I cannot dribble. I need to toss the hundreds of “what if” scenarios my crazy brain plays out in a week…. "What if my daughter goes to that college seven hours away? What if my book proposal gets rejected? What if I run into that someone I was secretly trying to avoid?” All of those maybes aren’t worth fretting unless they actually happen.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4: 6-7 NIV
Which brings me back to today. I need to throw away a reoccurring fear I have in my life, knowing that God has conquered it once and for all, that there’s no need to go back to that frightened place, because God has rescued me from it.
Whew. It. Is. A. Process.
Just like clearing my house of all the junk we’ve accumulated after living here for fourteen years is a process. My garage and drawers and shelves are still full, but they’re getting a little cleaner, a little more manageable, bit-by-bit, week-by-week. And so is my heart. By turning over my concerns and worries and fears and time to God, and letting Him take over, bit by bit, day by day, my head and my heart and my calendar (wouldn't you like to free up some time this Christmas season?) are a little more manageable, a little less crowded too.
So, Monday’s coming up, and I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to clear out. I don’t know what it’s going to be yet, but I know it will make more space in my home and in my heart.
What about you? Anything you need to clear out? You can start unloading now, by commenting below.
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