De-Clutter

I wish you could see my basement today. It’s not a pretty sight right now. I have two college-aged kids living at home this summer. And you know what that means? Basements are to college students what landfills are to citizens. Basements make superb dumping grounds!

Truth be told, I am by no means innocent in all this. I’ve made a few trips myself to my lower-level landfill. At last count I just deposited 35 boxes of books in my basement. And each time I haul another box downstairs, I silently rationalize, “books are safe for the basement environment.” Let’s hear it: kudos for the king of clutter.

I have a sizeable task in front of me. How will I arrange all those books downstairs? Where will I put them all? We are in the process of moving my office downstairs next to my ecologically friendly landfill. Feel free to join me if you wish. But for that to happen I will need to make space.

I was pondering this thought today: in a similar kind of way, my basement is a lot like my soul. Souls, like basements become depositories. Sometimes the things I deposit in my soul nurture, inspire and sustain me. The people I meet, the books I read, the sermons I hear, the service I offer all do this. At other times, I store away toxins or hazardous materials like harbored grudges, relational bitterness or unforgiveness. These pollute my soul and threaten to bring about great damage internally.

Today, I read Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:5ff:

Here’s what I want you to do: find a quiet place, a secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense His grace.

I long to experience God’s presence and grace more regularly. Do you? I know intellectually that God is present everywhere, but why don’t I seem to experience His presence more palpably in my day-to-day experience? Could it be that like my basement, there is too much clutter in my soul? Those who experience God’s presence and grace as a rhythm are those who practice what Jesus commends—a “quiet place.” Solitude like few other things creates space for God in my life. And in order to create space I may need to move some things around—even well meaning and legitimate things. Maybe I need to reevaluate my leisure pursuits or draw boundaries on time spent with friends or make adjustments in my daily schedule to include time alone with God or maybe even limit the time I devote to Christian causes or activities. Or during times of solitude God may whisper His affirmation and delight. Sometimes He will detect a destructive soul toxin and commence a program to "detoxify." When I de-clutter my soul, I allow for the possibility of my own personalized and direct experience with the living God. There is nothing standing in between.

Ruth Haley Barton in her book, Sacred Rhythms states: “…solitude is a place inside myself where God’s Spirit and my spirit dwell together in union. The place within me is private and reserved for intimacies that God and I share. What happens between the two of us in that place is not meant for public consumption. It is a place where I can give myself with abandon to the Lover of my soul, knowing that I am completely safe from anyone else’s curious gaze or judgmental glance.”

That’s enough for today. Now I’m off to basement to de-clutter my landfill.

S t r e t c h e d