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.