The Story of Our Stuff
Just over a year ago my family and I evacuated our home on Mississippi’s Gulf Coast in anticipation of hurricane Ida. I remember slowly walking through our house, methodically capturing every item in our home in my phone’s video. I wanted to have a visual catalog of our belongings for our insurance company, just in case we came home to flooding. It was surreal, taking in everything we owned, not knowing if it would still be there when we returned. As I surveyed each item, I imagined the stories our stuff would tell, if it could only speak. What would our things say about me, about our family? If someone else were to come in and take an inventory of our home, what assumptions would they make?
A friend of mine recently spoke at a women’s ministry event on the topic of “decluttering.” She encouraged us to walk around our homes, sit down, take a good look around, and let our stuff start speaking. “Lean in. Listen. What is it saying?” she asked gently. She confessed her makeup drawer was overflowing with age-defying products, suggesting she may be spending too much time and money on trying to turn back the hands of time. Other women around me admitted their closets were filled to the brim with “skinny” clothes, haunting reminders of all their failed diets, while some said their kitchen cabinets were stocked full of tools and appliances they’d never used, teasing them with cooking skills they’d yet to hone. It seemed everyone had a coat closet, an attic, a third-car garage, or a shed that was speaking volumes. My friend’s purpose in directing our attention to our clutter wasn’t to embarrass us but to reveal areas we needed to do some decluttering, not just in our homes but in our hearts. Our stuff isn’t just a reflection of what goes on around us, but a reflection of what goes on inside of us too.
Like my friend, our makeup drawer may speak loudly of our insecurities. Our closets may mirror our self-worth. The contents of our refrigerator may be a reflection of our health. Our television queue or our internet browser may reveal a lot about our thought life and our biggest distractions. Our bank statements could speak volumes as to where our treasure truly lies. Our clutter on the outside is like a tell-all magazine of our clutter on the inside. This is a difficult truth to swallow, but oh so important. The enemy speaks lies to us through the jumbled mess of things we’ve accrued over time, the choices we’ve made and the realities we’re unwilling to face. He’d love nothing more than to continue to distract us, discourage us or tempt us, and he can use our stuff to do it.
Not all our stuff has something bad to say, of course. There are plenty of things in my home that speak of precious friendships, family memories, and sweet victories. Some items nod to a past season of life or pay tribute to an unforgettable loss. When pieced together they form a beautiful tapestry of the life my family has built together. When we begin the arduous task of sifting through our stuff, choosing what to keep and what to part with, these are the things we should insist on hanging on to. We need to surround ourselves with reminders of who we are, the people who love us, and how far we’ve come. God speaks truth to us through the stories found in the good stuff.
I don’t mind saying my organizational style is best described as “good enough.” I used to resent living with my husband and kids because they were the only things standing between me and a home that belonged in a Container Store ad. Marie Kondo, famous home organizer and professional tidier, recently admitted that she has “given up” on keeping her home tidy at all times because she now has three young children at home and realizes how unrealistic it is. (Mothers everywhere have been validated.) Like Marie, I’ve accepted that I will never be able to maintain the level of minimalism I desire, and unless I’m willing to kick all three of my family members (and maybe the dog) to the curb, I will need to embrace the clutter. But you best believe that the MINUTE my youngest leaves for college, (or, God bless it, a decent trade school), I will be dusting off my label maker. The clutter in my mind though? That can be addressed now, and the sooner the better.
It seems my mind is always racing. If only I could categorize my thoughts and put them in clearly marked bins. “A place for everything and everything in its place,” isn’t that how the saying goes? Clearing my mind feels nearly impossible, even when my body is most relaxed. Albus Dumbledore, the fictitious character of the Harry Potter books/movie series, has something to help him cope with his cluttered thoughts; it’s called a Pensieve. A Pensieve is a wide, shallow bowl carrying powerful enchantments. “One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form,” explains Dumbledore. Oh that we could all have a Pensieve of our very own! Alas, like Dumbledore, Pensieves are the stuff of fanciful fiction, so what if instead I methodically walked through my thought life the way I walked through my home? What if I took an inventory of my thoughts and decided what was worth keeping and what needed to be tossed out? This kind of decluttering takes courage because Lord knows there are cabinets and drawers in my mind that haven’t been dealt with in far too long. Some memories scarred me and have only done me harm. It’s time for them to go. There are destructive habits I’ve held on to that are keeping me from being healthy. They need to be purged once and for all.
Sometimes we need to sit amongst our stuff, all spread out around us, to see the patterns that need to be broken. The connection between our stuff and our heart becomes far more visible when we listen to the stories it has to tell.
I urge you to try it. Walk through your home. Sit down. Take a good look around. Lean in. Listen. What stories does your stuff have to tell?