I have been a crazy, cleaning fool the last couple of months. Working towards getting my life back. I started to write, “back in order” but in reality, with the last few years? Nothing has been in order! (Okay, true confession: I’m not sure my life has ever truly been in order for any length of time. Procrastination + crazy busyness = controlled chaos!) It’s been a recurring theme, so I’ll just leave it there.
I need my life back.
Life spun out of control when home became a place to eat supper and sleep instead of a sanctuary from “out there.” We loved every moment of running our coffee shop, but when we opened it, we didn’t stop doing all the other stuff we already did. We added a whole new full-time business on top of two other jobs, plus family, plus ministry, plus our art, plus community work, plus, plus, plus.
In those years of running from one thing to the next, people often asked, “How do you do it all?”
I didn’t. Home was the place we let go.
So here I am, dealing with three years of stuff that had been crammed into closets and drawers and unused bedrooms in an effort to keep some semblance of normalcy in the rest of the house. It was an illusion of peace.
But these days, I am more into real peace as I figure out what to do with this:
So that I can have this:
It’s been a treasure hunt.
And I am finding the lost as I go.
When Man-of-my-Dreams and I got married, we chose invitations with the Scripture from Song of Solomon. “I have found the one my heart loves.”
And truly we had.
We’d been married a few years when I found rings from Israel engraved with that Scripture in Hebrew. I quickly ordered one for Kary, not knowing he’d also ordered me the same gold band. (Of course, I ordered on-line. He called the jeweler and woke him up! Small family business in Jerusalem–they sleep in the shop!)
But when we had Cuppa Joe, my finger got irritated under the gold ring from having my hands in dish water all day. I took it off–and lost it. I searched everywhere. I thought. I was sure it had gotten knocked off the shelf by the sink and swept up after a long day. I was heartbroken. But I kept thinking it might turn up as the new owner remodeled and cleaned or as we cleaned here at home (“Did I take it off at work? Or could it have been in my pants pocket and rolled under something?”) and just a week ago I prayed to the Finder of the Lost, “God, I know it’s a small thing, but if that ring is somewhere here, please help me to find it.”
I’ve been converting my daughter’s old room into my office. Man-of-my-Dreams gave up his Independence Day to paint and move furniture. And in an old purse stuck in the back of a closet, I found my ring buried in the change compartment with the quarters and nickels.
The lost was found and there was great rejoicing! And wonderment because I’m not sure how my old purse got stuck in the back of my daughter’s closet, but there it was.
And here it is:
I’ve found other lost treasures as I sort through stuff I should have dealt with long ago. But more important, I am learning lessons for this stage of life. That the things that are truly valuable can be lost beneath the avalanche of things that have no value. Items I’ve kept due to fear (What if I need this someday?) Or guilt (How can I throw away this Plaster of Paris treasure made by Great Aunt Drusilda?) Or who knows why?
As I let go of the cluttered life, I find more than “buried treasure.” I find the greatest treasure. Peace. With God. With myself. With those I love.