Clearing out the junk...

Loved this post from cantcookalick - about clearing out junk: "I’m a stuffer. I don’t deal with things at the moment. I find a way to laugh when I want to cry and stuff the problem way down deep. I will deal with it later. Why waste an opportunity to laugh? So, down to the basement it goes. Until someone finds the way through the door and stands in the middle of my junk and says, “Why do you keep all this stuff?”

That happened recently.

Scared me to death. Honestly, I didn’t even know half of that junk was down there.  I braved the walk down the stairs and took a look around. What I found was not pretty. Old emotions that were yellowed and worn. Hurt that was quietly growing in the corner. A past that no longer fit the woman I am trying to be. Space that was created for more. Cluttered by the less than life.

Everything in me wanted to run away, back to the safety and laughter of today and slam the door, lock it tight. But, that’s the problem. Stuff in the basement is not out of sight out of mind. It is always looming like a tenant that shows up just when you want to be alone. The noise that interrupts your quiet. The darkness that threatens your light.

Sometimes, it takes somebody surprising you and showing up in your basement, to realize you need to tidy up a bit. The trust issues that block the door lose the fight and your junk makes it’s way to the top floor.

Some people will judge your junk. Others will pilfer through it and try to find something they can use. Most will run away and be frightened by your junk. A few may even try to bring over some of their junk.

But, God loves me and all my junk. Especially that which I’ve tried to hide in a blue Rubbermaid tote in the corner. He’s not afraid to lift the lid. Honestly, he already knows what’s in there. And, He’s willing to help me and you sort through and decide what goes and what stays.

But, you gotta open the door…"

So we're talking about REAL junk. Hurt growing in hidden corners. Boxes labelled Unforgiveness. Piles of  perfectionism. Anger gathering dust in the corners. The mouldy smell of bitterness...

A talk in church this morning centred on how many of the Pharisees and even the disciples didn't 'get' Jesus. They just didn't understand where He was coming from, what he was talking about, let alone his mission to bring the kingdom of God to his people...

I'm no different. I often don't 'get' Jesus. I don't 'get' how to walk the walk, how to live the way he showed and taught me.  But I do know that my junk clutters up any little glimmer of heart-understanding I might have. And I do know that not only do I need to clear the junk out, I need to beef up my housekeeping with regular cleaning...