We’re Having a Yard Sale

Seven years ago, i was tak­ing a hard look at my life, prepar­ing to move com­plete­ly out of Mom’s house for the first time, into a home that for which i’d be per­son­al­ly responsible.

To be hon­est, that post would have been long for­got­ten — it bare­ly result­ed in a blip in this site’s traf­fic nor did it solic­it any com­ments or linkbacks — but the entry did mer­it a remark from Dad that that was the sort of blog entry i should be writ­ing, that by tying the­ol­o­gy into some­thing prac­ti­cal, the­ol­o­gy actu­al­ly becomes interesting.

His remark did impact me — i began to see that post as sort of a bench­mark for my writ­ing, though i rarely came any­where close to writ­ing such prac­ti­cal the­ol­o­gy again. 

Per­haps that is because i have lead a fair­ly ordi­nary life. Big events which force a the­o­log­i­cal response in my mind don’t come along too often — mov­ing out of Mom’s was a rel­a­tive­ly huge deal.

Flash for­ward to today. My girl­friend & i have been work­ing for sev­er­al days now in prepa­ra­tion of the yard sale we’re hop­ing to have this week­end. And yet again, i’m faced with the task of exam­in­ing just about every item i own.

This time, how­ev­er, i’ve not been eval­u­at­ing my pos­ses­sions via a the­o­log­i­cal lens — a lens which so dis­tract­ed me sev­en years ago that i referred to my Nin­ten­do DS sys­tem as a “Game Boy DS” in that old post ;) — but rather via a pure­ly prac­ti­cal lens.

And what it boils down to is that over the past sev­en years, i have accu­mu­lat­ed a ton of stuff. Jess too has a ton of stuff, not to men­tion our six-year-old.

Look­ing at some of the things i own, i’m left to won­der about the whys. Why do i own a pile of t‑shirts that bare­ly fit me? Why do i own a small stack of jeans, while only one pair fit me? Why did i ever buy all of those fluff the­ol­o­gy books when i was nev­er going to read them in the first place? 

Right now, it feels as though our home is fill­ing up — our bed­room is get­ting packed with priced & (some­what) orga­nized items to sell, our din­ing room is a triage area of items await­ing pric­ing, fur­ni­ture to be stored is spread through­out the house in almost every room. And we still have lots at both of our moms’ hous­es through which to go.

I look for­ward to this week­end, to what i hope will be a very suc­cess­ful yard sale. I look for­ward with eager antic­i­pa­tion of a much less clut­tered home, with­in which we feel much more able to func­tion. We have so many things we want to do — herb gar­dens, dec­o­rat­ing, yard work, numer­ous repairs — but every time we turn around, we’re faced with messes.

Mess­es because those pil­lows haven’t had a home in months. Because those pants don’t fit into my dress­er. Because those can­dles don’t have a place.

Because it’s far eas­i­er to let a mess accu­mu­late than to fight the clut­ter in order to find a place for every­thing oth­er than the floor or the cof­fee table.

I’m ready for a space to breathe, for the house to be a com­fort­able home, not sim­ply a glo­ri­fied stor­age unit.

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Rick Beckman