Actually? I am loving the decluttering process. Stuff some yard sale boxes and bags with old clothes, dishes and knick-knacks I've not worn or used in three years and, instantly, I feel downright virtuous.
There is a rhythm to purging a home, a life, of useless clutter, a rhythm nearly like music, music which makes one feel weightless, as though she can soar.
Or something like that.
Do you remember my 1960's-bicycle post? It's one of my favorites in 7 years of gathering stories for my blog. (This weekend marks 7 years of doing so. Seven years--yikes! How long-winded I must be.)
Anyway, when God brought that bike to me, (practically right to my front door), I adored Him for His kindness and I really loved that bicycle, too. I celebrated God's goodness by taking bike rides around our suburban block and smiled and felt ten-years-old all over again. Amazing, all of it.
But then we moved to the country, I stored the bike inside our barn, and it's leaned there against the chicken roost-thingy for three years.
Three whole years. (Though ok, twice I sat it near my garden for effect when we had guests. But hey.)
So you know what that means, don't you? When we have our big yard sale next month, I will sell my pretty, blue, God-given bike.
It's time. And even though we're moving back to the 'burbs, I now know myself well enough to realize I won't ride that bicycle there, either. I plan on doing much walking, ok, but no bike-riding and besides--we won't have room for it in our tiny garage. Not really. So the bike needs to go.
But will my grateful memories of that bicycle go with it? Am I being disloyal to God for releasing His obvious gift to me? Of course not. No, the amazing memories are safely tucked away in here, inside my head as well as in this scrapbook known as a blog, and those memories are going nowhere. That gift was for a special place upon the timeline of my life, a very specific time, and God and I both realize that. The giving away of that bicycle gift will dim nothing.
Always we are letting go of something, that is, if we're growing and moving-on at God's rate of speed. His plans for us are never stagnant, stale or moldy. No, He wishes to move us forward with a lightness of heart that enables us to fly--and meet with Him somewhere above all the heaviness of this present world. A special place, a joyful one, somewhere between Earth and Heaven, somewhere where it's just us and Him and all is well. Very, very well, indeed.
A place where we are free from encumbrances which tie us down to this sad ol' sorry world of 2011, a better place just this side of Heaven.