And now for a deeper hoarding issue…
The washrag is gone. I am ok with it. At times I feel silly like, seriously, Cindy, get a grip. It was a stupid washrag. A Barney washrag at that. I probably spent less than $2 on the thing. And if I’m being real here and it’s my blog so I can do with it what I want, I am pushing away feelings of sadness that the threadbare Barney washrag is loosed from my home. It has absolutely no emotions, no nerve endings, it was a totally inanimate object but if I allow myself, I can feel sad for the washrag. Like it’s missing me. Just being real here.
Which then evokes feelings about other things I miss or anticipate missing. Loved ones who are gone, children who are growing, family members who are aging or ill, friends that disappointed me, hopes, dreams, the list goes on and on.
Which then brings forth feelings that I sometimes hoard.
Resentment, fear, bitterness and anger come to mind. Because of Christ, I have had great victory in this area. Nothing of my own doing, that’s for sure. Before coming to know the Lord, my list of hurts was very long. I embedded a lot of pain and used it as a weapon when necessary. But God in His faithfulness, not only removed all the items on that list, He also took care of the even longer list I had created for myself. Sins that are none of your business, others that I have shared here on this blog and publicly.
So I’m learning to let go and clean up. And like the clients featured on Hoarders, to maintain order, one must be vigilant. It doesn’t take too much time for physical and emotional issues to pile up. I must make room in my home and in my heart for new things. Getting rid of the Barney washrag was something the Lord prompted me to do. I hung onto it for days and had it near the trashcan and it took days for it to go. Something that weighed mere ounces suddenly was too heavy to move. Until last night, that is.
Enter dreamlike sequence…
Years ago, I found a diary from middle school. Not much was in it but the usual 12-13 year old girl drama. However, amidst the boy crazy musings, I flipped through the pages and discovered an entry about a family member I chose not to name. In this entry, I wrote about an especially mean thing this person had said to me. Now 3o years later, I held the pages in my hand and it was excruciating.
In my middle school girl’s handwriting; my adult woman’s eyes fixated on those nasty words. What was I to do? I brought the diary to my husband and showed him the entry and started crying. I am a frequent crier. Don’t believe me? Click here and here and here and here and here.
I didn’t need that memory or that reminder but how could I throw out MY diary??? How could I let that go?
It was then that the Hubs offered to do some-thing I could not do for myself. In a beautiful act of love, he offered to throw it away. I nodded and I never saw that diary or those words ever again.
The diary, the Barney washrag, old wounds and hurts need to be discarded. It is time for a new season. Those items were weathered and useless. I can no longer cling to them.
Tears are welling up in my eyes as I type but I need to share this. Maybe it’s just for me and this is a completely selfish post but if it’s for you, let me give you permission, let it go. Whatever the “it” is. Let. it. go.
A Time for Everything
1 There is a time for everything,and a season for every activity under heaven:
2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away…