Warning: this one's a doozer...
So, I've been ruined worse than ever. You see, my husband thinks the blog is great for me because I'm so opinionated that it's a great outlet. I can vent and verbalize whether anyone ever reads it or not. I agree. The problem is, this whole experience of being sifted, refined, and my heart ripped wide open has not made me any quieter and certainly no less opinionated...at least not for the things for which I am truly passionate! Before Jason had said that my views on things can make people feel a little uncomfortable or that I can come across harshly. Well, as much as I appreciate that, I have to say that I will speak the truth in love, but at the same time, I'm not interested in anyone's opinion of me. If I didn't have one friend on earth, I'd still have the Lord...anyway, all of this to say, I have so much stress right now that I am internalizing because of the trivial, yet the necessary, and it makes me sick! No, literally, the glands behind my right ear are swollen and tender all the way down my neck! The source of my stress is myself, whom I cannot escape, obviously. I am wrestling with wanting to purge my entire household of, well, pretty much everything. I'm not sold on the "American Dream" or any other nation's for that matter...I want to sell the house and then build a small one somewhere remote and start over. I don't want to start over collecting stuff and filling closets and drawers. I don't want more storage space. That is what I want to escape. I am doing it. I am purging our home and our lives of the things that so easily entangle because I know how great I feel when I take loads of stuff to charities and shelters, but the process is sickening to my spirit. Does any of this make sense? In order to simplify, I'm in the midst of complication...I don't think it's a sin to have a house or to make it pretty, or to enjoy nice things, but when the house is so full that people are tripping over one another and all that comes of it is extra dusting, well in my opinionated opinion, it's too darn much. I really just need to have someone come over and throw everything away while I'm not looking, because if it's something I'll miss, then I liked it too much...actually, there were a few times while in the hospital that I hoped our house would burn down, except for my family and Bible and a disc of our favorite pictures...I don't like being an alien, but I don't want to feel like a resident, either. The truth is, I know we need to have food, clothing and shelter, so why does life on earth have to feel so much like an oxymoron? (Rhetorical...go to "Garden Story" in Genesis if this isn't rhetorical to you...) I mentioned a long time ago a book that has become a staple in my gift giving. It's called, One Minute of Margin, by Richard A. Swenson. (This doctor/author actually took the time to write me when I sent him an email about Noah long ago.) Anyway, it's revolutionized my life in a great way. I really am grateful for the role the book has played in my thinking. It's that admitting that my life has become so complicated that minimizing in order to reduce stress actually produces stress, well, again, it's an oxymoron. If Noah were home right now, then I wouldn't be downsizing or purging. I'd be rolling around on the floor cleaning up barf and playing with my kids. But, somehow, now coming home without him, I'm in this mode of rearranging the whole house. Jason's out of town this week and probably fearful that upon his return, there will be a bed in the middle of the family room and a box of underwear. Nothing else. Just me and Em doing Nacho Libre moves on the mattress. I don't want to give a rip about this...I want to make Noah's room my office, my old office space a prayer niche, I want to move the TV to the basement so it's just for movie watching, and then rearrange the family room for a home Bible study. I can't make his room into my office until I can find the floor through the numerous boxes that are covering it from whatever it is that we collected at the hospital. It's all a snowball effect and you all get the picture. So, what I'm trying to rectify is the attitude of my heart with living here on earth. I know Mary chose the best thing, but if Martha wasn't in there making dinner, Jesus and everyone else's stomachs would have been growling about now...If I'm supposed to be of the 5 virgins with oil in her lamp and not just one of the 10 virgins, what does that truly look like? I have a gut feeling it's really radical...How do I fill my lamp and live here on earth with purpose?