I am a keeper--can't throw anything away. Some are even making money writing books on this subject--how to organize everything from the house to the garage. Some even suggest hiring an organizer to shape up your closets! Over the years I kept scraps of material etc, and often developed a use for them later, making a quilt, making doll clothes, or doing lots of crafty projects for gifts. What was wrong with that? It was useful and cost nearly nothing but my time. People loved my creativeness. Could it be because we were poor when I was little and we made do with what we had? I have always called that being practical. But the last time I moved, someone wrote on my boxes of craft supplies, 'Junk 1' and 'Junk 2.' One person's treasure may well be another's trash, huh? In my quest to find the spiritual side of me, I even saved inspirational articles I thought I'd like to read again. However, paper things have a way of piling up so that I wouldn't be able to find that particular article if I looked. The keys to my life are in those quirks that I've taken the time to figure out. After over 20 years in self-discovery groups, I've learned why I react like I do to relationship problems. The key is to 'let Go' and 'let God' in all the other areas of my life as well. That has been the biggest key. If I learned to put God first then everything else would fall into place and I'll get done what needs done for that day. So, OK, I've been praying for God's help in the paper arena. What would Our Savior do? He never carried a pile of reference materials, it was all in his head as he told stories to make a point. Can I trust the Lord that whatever I might need for writing will be found when I need it? He didn't use paper when he wrote in the sand with his finger. Clutter can mess up my house, I'll admit, but I've been in houses where they have nothing out of place and I feel like I'm in a cold environment,like a sterile showroom. And the people who own the house seem to be devoid of any kind of imagination or compassion. All of their energies are spent keeping the house 'perfectly in order,' which can turn into some kind of an obsession. I was at a reunion once when another guest got down on her hands and knees to clean, for no other reason than because she was a perfectionist. I was horrified. When I go visit someone, I surely don't intend to inspect their housekeeping abilities? Perfectionism doesn't seem quite right either. There has to be a balance, doesn't there? Letter writing keeps me in the middle, sharing myself with others, when I have an opportunity. But would you keep on writing if you got no answers? Sometimes I have felt rejected and wondered if I wrote something that offended them, but most likely, I 'll write again anyway, after asking the Lord to brighten an old friend's day. Then it doesn't matter if they answer or not--it was done just because it felt right. And no matter how many 'piles' my office has, I've taken the time to reach out and touch somebody else's life. I'm positive in my heart that the Lord wants me to encourage others. So one of the keys to my happiness is writing letters for Jesus, letting his hand guide the pen as he keeps my mind focused upon Him. That makes Jesus the 'keeper of the keys.' As he fills my mind with himself, he will help me to know what to say to this particular person; often its the 'key' to something that's meaningful only to them, and then they tell me later how helpful it was, what was written to them. God helps me be kind to another human being who does not care what my physical office looks like, because the 'house' he or she grasps through my pen will be what's in my heart. My heart will see what's really important and I will enjoy a measure of serenity for having shown some compassion. I'll take that kind of satisfaction any day over a spotless house devoid of love. |
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