Today, a brown Duplo block went through the dishwasher along with my silverware. It was hiding - you can't blame me. And besides, the kids do most of the dishes around here. Maybe they slipped it in.
But ... but you can blame me for the pile of children's clothes in the hall. They're extras - I'm debating the merits of another trip to Goodwill versus saving them for someone I know.
You can also blame me for the stack of books on my desk, the sandwich bag of half-eaten health bars near my keyboard, and the positive attack of random items that litters the rest of my home: Socks on the futon, library books on the floor. A pair of slippers lurking near the fireplace, and an unlovely stack of long-since-dry dishes awaiting attention on the counter.
My home, in a word, screams out Clutter. And the truth is, I'd like to scream with it. No matter how many trips to Goodwill I make - no matter how often I purge, file, organize, or size down, the mass of things that remain is still daunting. I'm a lover of the simple, streamlined existence - and yet, here I am, staring at stacks of receipts and piles of old books that could all be reasonably classified as garbage. What happene to my lofty ideals?
You want the truth? Nothing happened. I'm still a lover of simplicity, of grace. But I'm living in a bountiful reality. One filled with children's laugher, children's loves, and the abundance that stems from a plethora of generous friends. This clutter that I see - most if it has been gifted to us by others. The pajamas I now wear - they're hand-me-downs from a friend. The pile of clothes in the hallway - most were given to us as well. The books, the dishes, even most of the mismatched furniture that we own - it all originated in the kindness of our many friends. And don't get me started on family: All this beautiful mess grew to its present state through the loving gestures of so many. How could I resent it at all? For in every thing out of place, every 'extra' item I find, there's the tangible presence of blessing. Not only have we been gifted with more than we need, we're in a country, a life, a time filled with plenty as well.
And it's a beautiful thing to be so gifted. Nothing to scoff at, after all. I think of the many, here and in other countries, who would stare open-mouthed at my callous treatment of this bounty. I take so much for granted. I take so much ... let that be granted. But, with this season of gratitude now upon me, I hope to be giving so much, as well. And I can begin by acknowledging the lavish blessing of the life into which I've been born. It really is cluttered. But were I elsewhere, were I even viewing my life through any outsider's objective gaze, I'd realize at once that there's a beauty in this clutter I don't often see. It speaks of wealth I do not deserve. It speaks of plenty. And if I listen closely, I believe it will also speak of my need for an equally rich existence in spirit. Let me not take any blessing for granted. Let me understand when I have accrued more than I need and be willing to share my blessings with others. Let me not hoarde or ignore, but let me enjoy, give thanks, and keep order among the numerous gifts I've been given.
And in so doing, let me find grace and humility to thank the Giver of all these good gifts. My clutter may not be my ideal, but it can serve as a constant reminder to look upward with gratitude for this unique opporunity to care for so many beautiful gifts. May I do that far more often than I do now ...
... and may I also find it within myself to clean that hallway ...
... tomorrow.
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