Clearing Out

Tonight I'm going to bed with my heart surging and singing. Because today I spent 8 hours cleaning the garage. Yes, it made me very happy. And yes, it was an absolute mess.

We moved here a year and a half ago after living in the Pacific Northwest for nearly two years, and after living in our Indiana house for exactly one year. Because we'd moved rather suddenly from Indiana, things had gotten chucked into boxes. Those boxes got stacked in our garage in Washington. Then, when we moved here, they were added to and stacked in this garage. Because we're in a small rental house, many more boxes of things have been stored in the garage.
Then when I moved Mother out here, her boxes joined ours along with a couple chairs, my great-grandfather's chest of drawers, a bookcase and table. Everything has been hurriedly pushed into the center of the garage floor which, I might add, has been covered with dust bunnies and leaves that have blown in under the door. We have hundreds of spiders--nasty black and brown ones--that have spun miles of webs up against the walls and under the shelves. They all got swept away today.

Today I went through everything except two boxes: a box that came with Sam from California when he married me (full of old receipts and goodness knows what else), and a box of cable wires, phone parts, and unidentifiable computer parts. As soon as Sam decides what to do with all of that, our garage will be completely packed properly and I will know where everything is. At long last!
Mother's boxes and things are all on one workshelf, covered with a blanket. Her antique chair is wrapped up and the table is protected.

I had no idea how therapeutic it would be for me to clean out the garage. I know that when people feel out of control of parts of their lives, that they do well to manage and straighten up what they can. Not that I can identify anything that is pressing my "control" buttons right now. But it is true that if I'm angry at Sam, I start a cleaning frenzy until everything in my surroundings is in order. At least I can control my surroundings. And by the time things are cleaned, he either ambushes me (he knows that frenetic cleaning in the middle of the week signifies upset on my part) until everything comes out, or I have had time to think through how I want to discuss things. He tells me that while I'm cleaning I hold my mouth funny and he knows immediately that I'm on the war path, even when I try to hold my mouth normally--whatever that is--and not clomp through the house. He always knows. And he usually makes me laugh about it.

Today, I just wanted to clean things up. There is beauty in order. It was drizzling outside most of the day and the cool, moist air wafted through the garage as I sent swirls of dust out into the rain. A whole carfull of "stuff" got taken over to the thrift store. Nice tax write off and good way to make space. I found things in boxes that I had forgotten all about: a little dish from Dublin, Ireland; a series of clay pots made by my friend, Nathan; a letter I'd sent Sam while we were dating. And tons of recyclable paper and cardboard. The trash bins are nearly overflowing. Perhaps what was really wonderful was that not once did I think about or concern myself with school: no grading of papers, reading reports, writing lectures or working on projects. I don't remember when I had a day like today--just me, the dust, and the hope that everything would be predictable and pleasant in that uninviting space.

I suppose this is what God does in our hearts--haul out the useless stuff, scrub the dirty places, make space for Himself. If it took me eight hours to clean a double car garage and storage room, think of how long it takes to clean and renew the human heart. As He clears away the junk, we find emotions and thoughts that have gotten lost on our journey. There is real delight in connecting with those things again.

As I go to bed tired but satisfied, I'm reminded that it is God who does the work--both to will and to do of His good pleasure. Have at it, Lord. My heart has lots of stuff that needs to go.