Declutter Me

This morning after the masses returned to their day jobs (including my children whose day job is, you know, school [which I believe is completely unnatural since no child should be in school after Memorial Day, but I digress]), I parked myself right back in the middle of my pillow-laden bed for a little morning TV trash before embarking on the post-holiday chore extravaganza.

To get myself in the cleaning mood, I watched a show on the Style network appropriately named Clean House. It's a show like any other cleaning/organizing/home decorating show, except the host of the show doesn't mind a little back-sassing. In fact, on today's show, she told the reluctant client, "I don't care about your whining. Girl, I done had three kids -- your whining don't bother me none." That's the kind of spunk many of these shows are missing.

Anyway, I was watching the show, really just wanting to veg out before tackling my irrational pre-vacation to-do list, when I sensed the conviction of the Lord. You see, on this show, the female half of the clientele kept sneaking her things -- the things that had been decluttered -- back into her house. And it wasn't like she was sneaking in a long-loved silk scarf, rather, she tried sneaking in a green marble table top big enough to seat ten people. She convinced friends to come buy her belongings to give back to her later, contributing her own money to the redecorating cash stash. She resisted the process so much that her husband cursed at her, and the fiery hostess nearly hit the road.

So back to the conviction: I love decluttering. I love sorting and purging our belongings. Were it not for the twinge of guilt I feel when I consider all the money passing back out of my house, decluttering would be the most perfect past time for me. Don't get me wrong -- my underlying need for frugality ultimately does not interfere with me letting go of the excess Barbies and bed sheets.

I learned a long time ago that things are replaceable. There is no need for me to hang on to an abundance of belongings that clutter up my life and rob me of a sense of peace. That to say, what I felt today had nothing to do with property. Rather, it had to do with attitudes and behaviors and emotions out-of-control.

I'm dealing with a few things -- some obvious, some less-so -- and though I ultimately want change to happen within, though I want an emotional remodel if you will, I find myself hauling in that green marble table top of old. I want the end result, instead I cling to the things I should be letting go.

But I'm tired. I'm tired of dealing. I don't want to be stripped down to the studs. I don't want to haul stuff out, wield a paintbrush, hang a curtain. I just want to walk in for the reveal. I wish it were that easy.

"Test me, O LORD, and try me,
examine my heart and my mind;
for your love is ever before me,
and I walk continually in your truth."
Psalm 26:2-3

"Search me, O God, and know my heart:
try me, and know my thoughts:
And see if there be any wicked way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."
Psalm 139:23-24