“What is my Transformers toy doing in the trash? And my slinky? And… isn’t that the boat I made?” My poor, sweet 5-year-old was perplexed as he gazed into the trash can.
In my head, I grumbled some thoughts that were not very God-honoring, as I outwardly fought to maintain my composure. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten to empty the trash before he got home from school. Earlier that day, overwhelmed by, well, life, I had decided to tackle at least a small piece of the chaos that seemed to be swallowing me: the toy room. I spent the day organizing, cleaning, and, yes, throwing away all manner of items… before walking away to handle some other kid-size-crisis and promptly forgetting about the evidence in the trash can. The items in question (a Happy Meal toy, a broken knock-off slinky, and random bits of non-sea-worthy materials from our recycling bin) had sat untouched for weeks, maybe months. He would never have missed them. He would never have even known to care. But now, he did.
“Mommy, did you drop them in there on accident? You wouldn’t throw my toys away, would you?” His sweet, small face turned pink as his eyes filled with tears.
I know the scene you’re picturing. The mom, moved by the innocent tenderness of her child, kneels down and offers reassuring words. Maybe she tells him that it was indeed a mistake, and they take the toys out of the trash together, restoring them to their rightful place in the toy room (until the next time she gets motivated to deep clean). Or maybe she takes him by the hand and has a heartfelt discussion about being good stewards and letting go of things we don’t need and even shows him a video all about recycling.
I wish I had been that mom. If I could go back, I would be that mom (I hope).
But not that day. That day I was at the end of my rope. Everywhere I turned, I was surrounded by clutter. In the toy room, yes, and the laundry room and the kitchen and the kids’ bedrooms, but that’s not all. My calendar was overflowing with obligations—play dates, school functions, doctor’s appointments, Bible studies, family commitments. My to-do list was miles long. Even my brain was cluttered, flooded with worries, insecurities, fears, and frustrations. And it was this clutter—all of this clutter—that I carried with me into the moment with my son.
So instead of responding with kindness, or even an attempt at kindness, I blew up. “Are you kidding me right now? Are you for real? You didn’t even know you had those toys! You had completely forgotten about them! You never play with them! One of them is made from actual trash! And now that I have worked so hard all day to make the toy room nice for you, all you have to say is how you want the stuff out of the trash?”
It’s not a moment I’m proud of. Even now, twelve years later, it makes my stomach turn to type that out.
But it was also a turning point. I was shocked at the words I had spoken. I knew that wasn’t who I wanted to be, to my children or anyone else. Where had that ugliness come from?
As usual, I think Jesus said it best: “the mouth speaks what the heart is full of” (Luke 6:45). I had spent an entire day trying to get the clutter in my life under control, but I had picked the wrong place to start. My heart was overflowing with anger, sadness, and frustration… and when questioned, my mouth brought it all out.
My outburst that day taught me a lesson I have carried with me ever since (admittedly, some days better than others): decluttering begins within. If I want to be at peace in my life, it doesn’t matter how many dishes I wash or shirts I fold. It doesn’t matter if my living room could be showcased in a magazine or if it looks like a toy store exploded in my house. It doesn’t even matter if I have an empty or full calendar, if I am facing big decisions, or anything else. Because true peace doesn’t come from my circumstances, but from the Prince of Peace.
I started making a more intentional effort to spend time with the Lord. At first, it looked like a whole lot of ranting. I would list every worry I had, justifying my attitude because of the hard things I was carrying. One day, I heard a little voice inside of me ask, Why are you holding onto all of these worries? “I HAVE to!” I fired back indignantly. “If I don’t worry about them………” I trailed off, realizing that I had no logical conclusion to that sentence. What did I think I was accomplishing by holding onto my worries? It wasn’t helping the situations at hand, and it clearly wasn’t making me a more loving person. I took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, and physically shook my hands, a prompt to my brain to let it go. I closed my eyes and pictured myself walking up to Jesus, my arms full, my muscles aching with the effort of all the burdens I was carrying—and then I just laid them all at His feet. He smiled, picked them up, and in His hands they became a tiny pebble, so easy to hold. He reassured me that He had it, and I was free.
In the book of Matthew, Jesus encourages His followers, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29, emphasis added). The rest God offers us is far beyond a good night’s sleep or a tidy house. It is soul rest. When we carry a rested soul into a chaotic situation, we are better able to handle it with grace and wisdom, and to be the reflection of Christ we were created to be.
So as we enter this new year with resolutions and goals and maybe some hopes for decluttering, might I suggest we all begin within? Here are just a few tips I’ve picked up along the way:
- Build silence into your life. Technology has made it incredibly easy to fill our lives with noise—podcasts, music, television, you name it. I enjoy all of those things, and I’m definitely not recommending you toss them from your life. But if your brain is trying to accept input every moment of the day, it can never process the information it is taking in, and eventually it will short-circuit, so to speak! Be intentional about having times of silence, even if it’s just 5-10 minutes a day. (When I am in the car by myself, I set a 10-minute timer to drive with no music or podcasts.)
- Begin where you are. When we think of decluttering our hearts and minds, we often think of escaping to some idyllic locale or creating the perfect little coffee-drinking nook in our home; and when those options aren’t readily available, we want to just throw our hands in the air and give up. Decluttering from within is inherently about your internal state, not your external one. If you can’t be somewhere that is physically restful, that’s OK. If you close your eyes in your living room, it looks exactly like when you close your eyes in Hawaii. Trust me. Start where you are and find a little moment of peace in the chaos. Legend has it that Susanna Wesley, mother of noted theologians John and Charles Wesley (and seventeen other children!), would throw her apron over her head as a signal to her family that she was spending time with the Lord.
- Abide, abide, abide. Spend time with the Lord. Yes, read your Bible and yes, tell Him your requests. But also just be with Him. Once in an interview, Mother Teresa was asked what she said when she prayed. “Nothing,” she replied, “I just listen.” The interviewer asked, “Well, then, what does God say?” “Nothing,” she said again, “He listens.” We serve a God who loves to be with His children. And the more we abide in Him, the more we can draw near to His heart, so that the overflow of our hearts can be full of things like love, joy, peace, and patience, not frustration and anger.
I wish I hadn’t lost my temper with my son that day. Clearly it still has an impact. But I am incredibly thankful for the gentle, loving way the Father used it to teach me that before I attempt to declutter my life, I must begin within.
— Katy Epling (c) December 2024
