Whoever said someone’s trash is someone else’s treasure?
They’ve never been to my home. Trash is trash and you can’t put a pretty bow on it.
My daughter’s family has the right idea. They rented a dumpster for a week and are being fierce in their disposal of things not needed. If it’s not been used in a few years–especially if it hasn’t been unpacked since the last move–it’s gone.
Heather can do that. Her kids are still young enough that they haven’t collected yearbooks and framed pictures of friends from high school. They don’t have attachments to “stuff” yet. She can afford to be ruthless.
It helps that her husband, Jeremy, is enjoying the decluttering process like it’s a day at the fair.
My dear husband mentioned that we might want to do something similar. I thought we might be able to take a few things to their dumpster, make the grand gesture, and be done.
We need to go all in. We haven’t parked a car in our garage since we moved in. I know there are boxes there from twenty years ago that haven’t been opened. It’s scarier to think what might be living in there–skittering, multi-legged and buggish–than what might have once been necessary.
Here’s the problem. There are seriously good things in there. A wooden table that could be used by one of the kids, if they’d ever pick it up. Favorite stuffed animals from when they were little, if they’d ever claim them. Yearbooks that multiply with six kids that contain more memories than anyone has brain space to hold. Trophies from countless soccer games that I feel guilty about pitching because they’re not mine. Pictures in tubs because I’ve never been a scrapbooker. I could scan them to my computer, but I don’t have the desire or capacity to learn.
Organized sounds so much easier when you don’t have to be the one organizing.
It’s so much easier shutting the garage door with the cars outside. Avoiding going in there unless it’s dire–like garbage pick-up day.
I’ve got conviction, but it falls far short of taking action.
For instance, November is all about NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. Where you put your fingers to the keys and churn out so many thousands of words a day, with the idea of finishing a 50,000 word novel before the last stroke of midnight on November 30.
I lasted two days.
Throwing away things isn’t the big deal. It’s finishing the job once I get started. Not getting distracted.
In a culture where it’s easier to get new rather than fix broken and where commitment to people or a cause can get lost in rhetoric, there’s only One who stands by me, who will complete what He’s promised to do in my life. No matter what.
Jesus never quits on me. Never rolls His eyes or gets distracted.
He’s with me to the end.
With that kind of commitment, I might be able to put a car in my garage.