Rubbish.
In the process of launching the last of our kids and then immediately packing up a long-loved house to move into a much smaller (but equally adorable) rental, there was a mad rush of junking, donating, sorting, and storing. I read a book called Swedish Death Cleaning for inspiration. I was all in. But the fact remained that six kids launched from this house leaving all their stuff. They have nary returned for it…except Gabe, who regularly checks to make sure we still have his middle school Hoops for Heart Trophies. So someone will have to road trip across the country to bring him his tub of "important things." Zeke and Kora do get a pass on their stuff as they are flying on fresh wings and Zeke did ship out for Basic before we knew that he would never return to his old room.
It’s been a lot.
A lot of reflecting, reminiscing, remembering. A lot of letting go. A lot of holding dear. A lot of decision-making. Is this worth storing and moving from place to place at this point in our lives? Andy and I could barely move for 2 weeks after this move. Sore muscles. Triggered memories. Triggered regrets. Tender and tearful sorting of all the years. Now gone. No more jerseys. Does anyone want all these jerseys? No more report cards and Varsity letters. Who wants these? And bless all the baby pictures that were before the digital age. What do we do with all these Walgreens double prints? And also...how do you throw away any pictures of your babies??
I’m tired.
In setting up the new place, I scaled down on having pictures of the kids on every wall. It didn’t seem appropriate. Gratitude and grief. Yes. But I tried to tred lightly on idolizing motherhood, idolizing the kids. I am actively trying to craft and create the next chapters...although the rough drafts have been sub-par so far.
So, a couple of sweet pics of the kids, and then what do I put up in these giant built-ins?
I did come across a display piece, a beautiful and uniquely designed award that I won years ago as a young Mom from a famous fashion designer (I know. It doesn’t track. It doesn’t matter). I hardly remembered it as it was buried in the bottom of the tote. I’m pretty sure none of the kids, my friends or my family even knows about it or remembers it. So I thought, what the heck?
And I put it on the shelf.
It was there for 24 hours.
And I couldn’t stand it.
Back in the tote it went.
Because rubbish.
It’s all rubbish.
It just doesn’t matter.
I raised six kids. I gave it everything I had. I’m crazy about them, I think they are all amazing. And I will be in their corner for all my days.
I did some things in there. Won some awards, had a commercial and some articles, and had an audience for a season.
And none of these things are a substitude for loving my neighbor today.
None of these things count for today.
Following Jesus remains daily.
Decisions I make today.
Past victories, accomplishments and failures do not define the daily-ness of knowing Christ Jesus.
“Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ”
Someone told me a long time ago to let human praise and criticism hold the same weight in my life. Let them both sorta roll quickly through. Remain centered and grounded in Jesus. The accolades and critics can pass quickly through as they just don’t matter that much.
I feel like I’m trying to do the same with the past and the future right now. Let them both roll quickly through, as my tendency is to get stuck—stuck in the grief of a time passed or stuck in the fear of an unknown future. But letting them roll through…making note of the lessons learned and giving thanks for what was. Being intentional about creating a preferred future. But ultimately resting in the present. Grounded in the present. What is now?
Where are the opportunities for growth now?
Where are the people whose lives I can intersect now?
Where can I join God now in the work He is doing now?