"For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it." ... 1 Timothy 6:7
Yesterday Tom and I stepped into an estate sale house belonging to semi-hoarders. Oh my-- Chotchke City! Two floors of glass and ceramic trinkets stretched across tables and old Bakelite (and similar) radios, and jewelry, books and who-knows-what.
We both felt overwhelmed and actually concentrating on any specific item proved difficult. My eyes kept darting though windows facing the huge grey river behind the house, for it was peaceful and so unlike this crammed-with stuff split-level house.
And this was the second day of the sale!
Of course, to be fair, drawers and closets must be emptied so to display items, so the house wasn't always like this. Also, the kitchen had recently been remodeled because it felt like stepping into an episode of Flip or Flop--but still--Tom and I whispered, "If all estate sales were like this one, we'd probably stay home, instead."
It was just too much. Too much stuff.
Yet I did get to play Detective Debra. I spied 10 (or so) yearbooks, two copies of most, meaning this couple had attended the same high school, one only 2 blocks away as the crow flies, one from which I already owned the 1948 copy. If only I'd checked for their names, though! Piecing together yearbook students' later lives is a hobby of mine, but oh well, as I said, I couldn't think straight in there.
It's like too much physical stuff can jump inside your head somehow and crowd out what you really want to think about.
Yet later, ol' Detective D. figured this couple fell in love in high school then bought this river's edge house brand new in the 50's and lived there always. Together. And that's a sweet story, one we see repeated lots around our area, one which reminds me why I've so enjoyed my 23 years in Western New York after coming from the transient states of California and Nevada.
Anyway, all we purchased was a dvd and this lighthouse picture, below, which I placed in my beloved closet room to act like a porthole. I'm pretending it's a window to a lighthouse and the sea (and yes, I have quite the imagination)--
Tom and I walked back to our car soberly. We recalled how, for years, we've hoped to not leave such a huge burden for Naomi by way of a big house crammed with possessions after we're gone (if the Lord tarries). Yet sometimes I feel we have a small house crammed with stuff. Uh-oh! Yet I do often drag a heavy bag (or two) down the street to the Salvation Army bin--but still--our basement remains crowded and we do own some stuff we neither currently neeeed or love, but it stays because we have room for it.
We drove away quiet in thought, both remembering past lessons and promises. (Our respect for everywhere-lessons keeps us from complaining about lots of folks who do things differently.) And yes, we visited a few more yard sales, but made purchases soberly while recalling that Wisdom chooses wisely and can release, from home, what one season found valuable, but now feels more like clutter because of change.
We all change, as well as Time, circumstances and Life, all as it should because growth is like that. And may we willingly, without remorse or dread, change along with them. As needed.
"He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding..." ... Daniel 2:21
My other (self-controlled) finds yesterday were these two fun vintage pillows which make me smile. I'll try to brighten them this week.
Free Kindle Books:
Anne's House of Dreams
The Bronte Sisters: The Complete Novels
Take a Break
Come to Me Alive