Forced Seclusion Begins a Much Needed De-Cluttering

I'm forced to seclusion.

My allergies overpowering. 

My air conditioned bedroom; my reprieve.

Haying, lawn mowing, beautiful blossoms;

all causing me discomfort. 

So, I head to my bedroom. 

On a gloriously sunny day. 

I am forced to look at the clutter. 

The piles of clothes. 

The boxes of paper. 

Most of it needing to go. 

I begin the process. 

Cards sent when our world shattered. 

When our first born son was called to glory at 17. 

When cancer threatened to take a good man down. 

When the joy thief knocked harshly on my farmers door. 

Cards of encouragement. 

Cards with gifts and letters sharing stories. 

I hold these in my hand. 

I remember little from this time. 

I don't want to part with these cards. 

Lists of thank you's to write.

Never written. 

Because how do you thank 100's of people?

Notes from meals left on our door step. 

Unknown. 

These papers slip through my fingers to the recycling. 

I think on that time. 

I allow the grief to wash over me. 

I clear a space on the floor. 

It's been two years since I have seen that space. 

I feel a bit lighter. 

I continue through the box. 

I find the thank you notes Elijah had written and not sent. 

His handwriting. 

So unique. 

The tears well. 

I want to stop. 

I feel overwhelmed with the enormity of the amount of clutter. 

The memories. 

 I continue on. 

I must.

The mess and the clutter in this room are weighing me down. 

I am a prisoner; held by clutter and things. 

Held by dust and and the inability to vacuum or walk safely. 

This is agonizing. 

I want to hold on to these cards forever. 

I want to go back. 

I want my son back. 

I want my world to be normal again. 

Before death. 

Before cancer. 

When we were whole and intact. 

I let the tears flow. 

I think about Elijah. 

Oh, how I miss him. 

This seems so cruel. 

The loss of a child. 

I get to the bottom of the box. 

I have found 2 gift cards given to us. 

I have read words of beautiful encouragement. 

Strength; in words. 

Strangers. 

Friends. 

All holding us close. 

I reach the end of the second box. 

The piles; diminishing. 

I save a few things and find a home for them. 

I hang clothes and throw away ripped items. 

I let go of recycling and reusing for a few minutes. 

The guilt is overwhelming. 

But I persevere. 

This needs to be done. 

I continue to read cards sent from all over. 

My soul finds peace. 

I breathe deeply the reminder that God will never leave us nor forsake us. 

Isaiah 41:10

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Words that I have listened to over and over. 

Words that I have read and been strengthened by. 

My allergies have calmed down. 

I continue to sort through the piles. 

Day by day and moment by moment I will conquer this clutter. 

I begin to let go of the things that have controlled me for so long. 

It's been good to go through this de-cluttering process.

I will continue to press on in this journey. 

Philippians 3:14
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called
 me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Conquer The Clutter

We clean up that farm boys room;

because it is a mess. 

Really. 

All the rooms are a mess. 

Clothes, papers. 

Clutter. 

Everywhere. 

My cluttered home has seeped into my soul. 

The clutter of grief and loss. 

Daily consuming. 

I fold a shirt. 

It belongs to  the son who has left this earth. 

I can feel the ache. 

It has threatened to spill over all day. 

The loss. 

Another in the community has lost too. 

Another accident. 

One so young with 3 children. 

And I just can't bear the pain. 

The grief she is feeling. 

The shock. 

The fog. 

The clutter in my soul is too much. 

Do you know this? 

When all weighs heavy. 

When the rush of the day and tyranny of the urgent creep in? 

It is then, when I fold that shirt. 

 That the trickle begins. 

I haven't taken time for the word today. 

I wanted to conquer the clutter in the house. 

Conquer the little girls room. 

The pretty room with not and inch of clean floor space. 

The upstairs hallway, rich in history, yet cluttered with "stuff".

The farm boys room that smells of something unidentifiable. 

Where the floor rises to meet you as walk in. 

I wanted to conquer, that clutter. 

While the other clutter grew deep in my soul. 

The pain. 

The burden of anothers loss. 

The ache of a friend as she aches for her friend. 

Buried deep in my soul. 

Until the weight spills over my cheeks. 

It is then that the words flutter to the front. 

2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you,

 for my power is made perfect in weakness."

I can tackle the clutter of this home, 

Only when the clutter of my soul is gone. 

The heavy soul clutter needs to go.

Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you resTake my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

It is imperative to the journey here; 

this side of heaven. 

The ache, the pain, the grief;

that is here to stay. 

When grief upon grief is stacked. 

The soul becomes weighted down. 
Cluttered. 

We become blind to the truth. 
We buy into the lies. 
When the soul is cluttered. 

God longs to carry the burden of our souls. 
He waits to help de-clutter; if only we will let him. 

So today. 
I am beginning with the word. 
That Ancient, glorious truth. 
I am going to set my feet where Truth dwells. 
I am going to let God Abolish the lies. 

Jeremiah 31:3
The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying:
 "I have loved you with an everlasting love; 
I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.

We are so loved. 

Are you willing to lay down your burdens and let God conquer the soul clutter? 

David Crowder
Come As You are.

Come out of sadness From wherever you've been
Come broken hearted Let rescue begin
Come find your mercy Oh sinner come kneel
Earth has no sorrow 
That heaven can't heal
Earth has no sorrow
That heaven can't heal