Decluttering

There’s nothing like changing residences to make us even more aware of our abundance, even our excess of possessions. This past fall I had the unique experience of moving from the residence where I had been house-sitting for the last six years, with a major portion of my belongings boxed up in storage in the basement. As I unpacked them in my new residence, I quickly became aware of how much my priorities, lifestyle and tastes had changed in six years. 

Having a new place to live has given me a fresh perspective, like a blank canvas waiting for a new interpretation of what I would enjoy for a living space. My living room sat empty for almost two months during which time I had the joy of finding furnishings and accessories that worked well together. 

I even decluttered my Christmas decorating this year. There’s the small Christmas tree with just the lights and no ornaments, and the nativity I inherited from my parents, the plastic figures and the hand-made        shelter, the single light in the back. Sometimes at night I turn out all the lights but that one in the creche. It’s that little space of quiet at the end of the day that stirs up gratitude in my heart that His love compelled Him come to us, bringing light and hope into our broken lives. 

The decluttering of my physical environment has made space for something better, but it has also reminded me of how much emotional and mental clutter can take up too much space in our minds and hearts. Maybe it’s a worn-out worry, or the excess baggage of regret, resentment or unforgiveness. 

Unlike the wise men who brought treasures to the Christ child, we have nothing to give him, except our hearts, our broken, divided, cluttered hearts. But indeed, that is what He wants, that is why He came.

How well I know, decluttering can seem so big and overwhelming that I don’t want to start. In those times, I tell myself, “one step at a time,” with the realization that it is a life-long process and habit. Decluttering the heart has the added challenge of setting aside our many distractions, especially cell phones and to-do lists.

But just as the empty room or the blank canvas invites something new to be created, likewise that quiet space in our day, even 10 minutes, and a willing spirit is the means by which the Master Artist begins regenerating our hearts. We lay before him that clutter, a problem to be solved, a difficult memory, an unrelenting regret, a nagging feeling we may not even be able to name. And we invite him to speak life and hope into that space. 

“No matter what feels beyond fixing, One came from beyond the walls of this world because His heart is fixed on you, and you are loved far beyond your wildest hopes and deepest needs.”*

The song I’ve had on replay recently is “Here’s my heart, Lord. Speak what is true…” **

At Christmas and in all the days ahead, let this be our simple prayer,  “Here’s my heart, Lord. Speak what is true.” 

*Ann Voskamp

**Chris Tomlin