Notes on napkins and tales from the trash

I love the notes my mother used to write on a napkin and place in my school lunch box. I like to think that my mother invented that idea and is the only person who ever has expressed love that way. It meant that much to me. Actually, I'm glad that many other mothers have followed my mother's example (I'll just believe she was the trendsetter, ok?).

I grew up just a little bit more last week. Maybe I just looked at a piece of reality and saw it clearer. Last week I rented a commercial-sized dumpster. It was the length of my driveway! I filled that dumpster half full of my childhood, among other accumulated sundries.

Purge. That seems like a negative word. What a horrible thing to throw away such precious treasures, like a piece of love written on a napkin. Reality came into sharper focus though. It was a battle. A battle in my heart, soul, and mind. I'm not joking; I think most of you understand that. I have convincing reasons why I need to hold on to each of those napkins that no longer take up space in my childhood lunchbox, but actually own space in a larger box of memorabilia shoved into any free corner of the garage. It is rather easy to present a convincing argument for holding tight to things of the past when I am the only one who has to be convinced. I am the best orartor to my own ears! So I shook my head a million times to the desperate pleading voice in my head saying, "Hang on to that piece of your childhood....you'll never see that again....don't get rid of that!!!!!!"

I grieved. I grieved the reality of an innocence lost, the hindsight vision of a broken heart and rich life--blurred together, a time when I knew less but needed just as much. I saved one of the napkins (hey, who saved those napkins in the first place??!!!!! ...MOM.....!), along with a smattering of other important treasures (letters from grandmothers, the deck of kitty cat playing cards I inherited from my sister, a flute-like instrument my parents brought back from Israel, my grade cards from every year in school, a ticket stub from an OU football game my brother took me to when he was in college...to name a few). What sweet memories. Now my childhood relics own only two medium sized boxes that fit managably in a designated location of the garage. The memoribila has decreased in size, my tight grasp has loosened, and my heart has grown. It has grown to fill the spaces of my 36 year old life.

One final insight. I was not alone in this undertaking. I had to ask someone to walk into the messy places in my house. To do a "Clean Sweep" of my possessions required that I invite someone to accompany me---for the sake of courage and focus. Thank you to Jools who allowed me to cry, saw me become very short tempered, and was willing to validate the importance of each item with which I struggled to loosen my grip. When my eyes glazed over at the sight of the next closet of piled up life, she would step forward toward it and encourage me to come with her. She handed it to me, a piece at a time. When I would feel overwhelmed with the reality of how I had saved erasers and bookmarks, and assigned them value, and shame welled up in my heart.....she responded so gently. "That's so sweet that you liked that eraser so much. You're not screwed up; you're so sensitive!" Her gift allowed me to throw away my symbolic treasure. She reminded me where my real treasure is.

I think I need to go write some love on a napkin!

GLEANING: I believe God shows us that He is mysteriously transforming our lives when we can see a pattern of change occurring in more than one place in our life. It encouges me that I responded to a need two years ago to get my finances in order, I responded a year ago to get my inner life in order, I responded a week ago to getting my physical house in order, to name only a few. Each time I heard the invitation for change, I could not go there alone. In each place I was deperately frozen. Yet these places were opportunities to face reality and be guided through my reality with a loving person(s).

How wide, how long, how high, how deep is the love of Christ!