Clutter

It's all around me.


I am the worst 'stacker of things'  you could know.


"I'll get around to it..." is my mantra


And then, when I can stand it no longer, 
I. Must. Attack.


Why do I do it?
Why do I stack and stash and push things aside for the time being?


Most of the time, it's because in the moment, I don't know what to do with it.
I don't want to mess with it.
I don't want to take the time to actually put some thought into it.


I have other clutter in my life.


Things I just don't know what to do with.
(yes, I am aware of the grammatical incorrectness of that sentence).


Some things I know how to do well.
Other things I am at a loss.


And as I sat on my porch this morning
That first deep breath of morning air
Those quiet moments filled only with the sounds of aviary greetings
That first sip of steamy liquid manna
My mind turned to clutter


Things I am at a loss as to direction


I don't know what to do with the judgment of others
I don't know what to do with the persistent reminder of my vulnerability
I don't know what to do with the lack of second chances
I don't know what to do with the lack of grace I receive from others
And the lack of grace I extend


I sit.
And I stare.
Blankly.


And they pile up.
Until I can stand it no longer
Because, like my sink overflowing with dirty dishes
Or my entry table overrun with mail and notes and reminders


They have taken on a life of their own.


So,
I embrace (once again) Lamentations 3:22:


"Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."


And I proceed, one mess at a time, to eliminate.


Because these 'things' are not mine to hoard.


And I begin
To let go.