There is a corner of my bedroom that few people see. Honestly, I haven't even seen it in months! All year long it has welcomed towers of transparent tubs with clearly labeled lids. Preparations, wardrobing, and supplies, packed and stacked, piled high with hope and readiness for all things wedding.
Over the holidays, I finally got it all cleared out, and it feels new and wonderful. The lingering fullness and lack of margin certainly held meaning and purpose for a time. We have found ourselves in a season of serving and sowing along with all the celebrations.
Sadly, without noticing, I had grown accustomed to the looming excess and crowded feelings of anxiousness, but now, in this freshly exposed space, all I can sense is a new start, uncluttered and calm. Life-giving.
With similar, happy resolve I also addressed my jumbled jewelry hanger that clanged necklaces against my closet door with each swinging entrance and exit. We all know there are only three or four that I want to wear, so the rest have been released.
All that remains is tidy and still. Quiet.
Next, I purged and organized the contents of each of my desk drawers. Nothing I don't need. Everything in its place.
There is peace in being systematically prepared with merely the necessities. Come what may.
Then I even went through my closet, giving away the clothes I only think I might wear, leaving the garments that I actually use with ample room for each to hang loosely so as not to wrinkle.
Honesty. Simplicity. Room to breathe.
Could it be true that our living spaces reflect our soul and its health?
Well, there remains an unstable pile of papers mocking me from atop my desk, a windowsill disguised as a library shelf, the hall closet crammed with overstuffed photo boxes, and the cabinet under my bathroom sink riddled with randomness, Lord help us all.
Nothing to fear. Plentiful opportunities to show myself some grace, a little patience, and all the freedom . . . to further explore the wisdom of less becoming more.
