One of the families in the episode I watched had at least eighteen inches of debris on th e floor throughout the house. I was struck by the sheer wastefulness of their lifestyle. Obviously they couldn’t find what they needed, so they frequently went out and bought replacements. The dad had broken fish tanks on the porch, an unattached deck rescued from someone else’s house in the yard, sports equipment in the living room, and all kinds of memorabilia not only from his youth, but also from people he knew only as acquaintances throughout the house. The greatest reason for their desperate situation? They kept everything in case they needed it later. They finally sought help because they were at risk of losing their children if their house was not deemed habitable by a state-mandated deadline. They stood to lose the one thing they really couldn’t replace because they held so tightly to things they could.
My house isn’t anything like the Hoarders show, but sometimes I need to look at the clutter around my own house and see the waste implied.
There is this very real sense that my clutter simultaneously distracts me from what I should be doing and steals from those around me.
And then I look around at my clutter and see the excess. Sure, I could get a lot of money for the set of dishes I replaced with Christmas money this year. And we need some repairs done on the house and the dish money could be the way to finance them. But at what cost? I don’t mean the eBay fees, either. I mean, am I exchanging a little bit of my heart for Christ – an opportunity for compassion, generosity, and faith – by holding onto the dishes for my own material gain?
I really don’t know the answer here. On one hand, something like this stack of dishes could be the way God is providing for my needs. On the other hand, selling the stack of dishes could be me seeking to provide for myself rather than trusting God to be my provider. How do I know the difference?
There are very real times when I truly cannot help a brother or sister in need. But there are an awful lot of times when I could, if I were willing to let go of some of my I-might-need-it-laters.
This song directs my view away from what I give generously and stubbornly focuses on what is tightly held in my hand and heart.
Oh teach me Lord to walk this road, the road of simple living; to be content with what I own and generous in giving. And when I cling to what I have, please wrest it quickly from my grasp. I’d rather lose all the things of earth to gain the things of heaven.
Have you ever thought about your clutter as giving up the things of heaven to keep the things of earth?
Do you stand to lose the irreplaceable “Well done, good and faithful servant” for the easily replaceable nineteenth pair of shoes?
What peace do we forfeit when we cling to all the I-might-need-it-laters around the house?