The day before yesterday, my 14-year old son, Keenan, and I loaded up with provisions, strapped our supplies across our backs and set off into the wilderness. With no idea as to what lay before us we trampled on ahead fearlessly. No matter what dangers we might meet, we were up to the challenge. Would it be bears? Lions? Tigers? No, something much more fierce was about: the children’s bedrooms.
The infamous dejunking-before-moving days are upon us. The time in which we weed, toss and, sometimes, keep those things that have tried their best to dominate and control our lives.
I’m really not a “things” person and dejunking is rather too much fun for me (at least according to my family). I’ll toss now and ask questions never almost any day of the week. Therein, in my children’s eyes, lies the problem: is anything safe in Mama’s hands? They think not.
They’re probably right. I hate the idea of being dominated or controlled by stuff. Not everyone in my family understands my love of tossing and giving away, however. Truth be told, I’m not sure anybody in my family gets as much joy from dejunking as I do. To me, it’s an art to be worked on, developed and mastered. I’m working on my third Ph.D. in Dejunking right now.
Really, truth honestly be told, the children’s rooms aren’t that bad. With me around (and my love of tossing), how could they be? With Keenan and I helping them, they willingly got rid of extra toys and books and enjoyed the fact that some other child might enjoy what they were getting rid of. Things were moving along rather swimmingly until yesterday.
Yesterday we tackled their clothes.
Usually, at the end of one season, we switch out to the new season’s clothes in stages: Stage 1) get out a few pieces of clothing for the new season (knowing that most days are going to continue to be just as they have been); Stage 2) go about 50/50–pack up more, get out more and, Stage 3) completely switch out. This year, due to endless illnesses, we hadn’t been able to go through these stages and their clothes were a mishmash of seasons (as more had been gotten out but more hadn’t been put up). Add that to the fact that their Aunt recently sent several large bags of clothes to them (that they happily incorporated into their clothing supplies) plus a friend sent more items to them (and they did the same) and we were facing a very fierce, very tall and foreboding, Mount Clothing yesterday.
We were brave though, my son and I. We sat in the middle of the clothes we had gathered and, after we quit crying (almost just kidding), we tackled them. When we headed in there, I had been willing to give the clothes 30 minutes of effort; after being in there for a bit, I saw it would take a while longer: an hour, I thought. Three hours later we emerged.
Now, mind you, these are clothes for not one child but for four children (two girls, two boys…ages 5 to 12). Having this many clothes to sort through and figure out what to pack up, what to give away, what to keep out and what to throw away is not normal for us. I guess that’s why it was so overwhelming. Practical minded me doesn’t believe that my children need mounds of clothes they will never wear; yesterday practical minded me got blind-sided by Mount Clothing and what happens when illness combines with folks generosity. Some serious shoveling went on, I tell you. At least the thrift store will be happy.
My little ones are happy, too. Now they can find their favorite Mickey Mouse shirt or pretty blouse.
Today it’s back into the fray. Once again Keenan-the-brave and I, his adoring and practical-minded de-junker Mom, head back into the children’s rooms to find any thing we might have missed and, if nothing, we’ll move on to the den closet. It’s gonna be fun, I gotta tell ya.
God is good in offering us this chance to down-size and to do it to His glory: by going through all of our stuff we get to see, once again, just how much He has blessed us with the things that make life a little bit easier (though we do not have everything we want or even need, we have far more than we deserve), we get to share with others (as others have shared with us–always a great feeling) and, as a wonderful benefit, it will making packing much, much easier.
I’ll be running on now. It’s time to change into my secret (or maybe not-so-secret) identity–The Happy De-junker–and wreck friendly havoc on our stuff once again.
Until later, remember to praise God in, and for, everything: even when you cannot see.