Are you still taking in the freshness of a new year? The potential for a new chapter in life? Excited with the infinite possibilities before us?  To make way for the new, maybe you’ve begun the process of decluttering. In thinking about that, I’m reminded of a conversation I had with God about “decluttering.” It’s recorded in my book Dance in the Meadow, Conversations of Self-Discovery, Clarity, and Love. I share it here in hopes it will resonate with you.

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Chapter 27: Take Out the Trash

“Did you remember to take out the trash?” the Lord asks, all the while knowing I did not.

“The trash?” I respond. “Well, good morning to you, too, Lord. Why is the trash such a big deal to be the first utterance of the day?”  I look at the trash can in the corner of my room; full and ready to overflow. It seems to be harmless. No big deal in just letting it sit there.

“Clutter. It’s about the clutter. You are trying to grow and not be slowed down by reluctance, by fear, or by lack of direction. But the clutter builds up around you and draws you aside. It’s a distraction. It’s time for some good cleaning, starting with trash removal,” my Lord says to me. “That’s the worst kind of clutter – leaving that which you have thrown away, leaving that residue, to yet take space in your life and fill the air around you.” 

I know I do need to clean my room. I do need to empty the trash, but I sense we’re talking about much more than the physical here.

“Yes, it’s also about your soul,” he confirms. “Have you ever thrown something away, only to go back and pull it out of the trash again a day later?” We both know that I have. “You do that more than you realize. And you do it most often in your soul. You go back and look for what you had already deemed was not useful to you, what does not serve you, what no longer works. You go back and pick it out of the trash heap in hopes it may have some resurrected benefit. Trust me. It doesn’t,” he says with finality. 

He sits quietly while I ponder the words. I get it. It is the clutter that I keep digging through that disturbs my sleep. It’s the lying in bed at night wondering about this, about that, . . . about what I should have said differently, about what signal I missed, about if I should go back and try to fix one situation or another, unraveling what I had already taken care of . . . endless digging through the trash bin. I get it. I best get that bin emptied, remove it completely from the room.

“Let me help you with that,” the Lord continues. “Let’s burn it so that it doesn’t remain a temptation to you.”

That thought does make me flinch. It makes me realize that I like dumpster diving! Oh no, I didn’t know that! It keeps me living in the past – the familiar, the comfortable – and keeps me from moving on down the road I’m standing on. This is part of that reluctance we’ve been discussing. Despite my good intentions and sincere commitment, I am still stuck, and this is why. 

“Okay, Lord,” I say, handing him a box of matches. 

He hands them back to me.

“You do it. You set fire to the heap,” he tells me. “I’ll stand with you and make sure the flames don’t touch you, so that they cannot turn and consume you. I will watch over and cover you.” 

“Okay,” I say. “After all, it is my trash.”

I set the fire and the flames warm me; not just the flesh of my skin, but the crevices of my soul as well. I sense that burning away the old and useless clutter makes room for something new. It’s like prairie burning, when farmers burn their fields to remove residue of old crops before they plant new ones.

It’s not long before the blaze dims. The smoke rises, and behind it a clear, blue sky emerges. Beauty for ashes. It’s not long before my lungs are cleared of the smoke inhaled. The breath of life. It’s not long before I rise and start once again to move forward, setting one foot in front of the other, eager to leave the past behind and give full attention to today. Undistracted. Alive.

Now I’m ready.

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To read more of these conversations, check out Dance in the Meadow, available on Amazon or at your favorite bookstore. Then let me know what kind of conversations you’re having with your God, with the Universe, with your Maker. I’d love to hear.