I think I’m weird. Whenever I’m going on a trip, or having a procedure, I have an overwhelming urge to thoroughly clean my house: walls, rugs, closets, drawers, the whole shebang. As I write this, I am thinking about the kitchen cabinets and all the items I store but never use. I should purge them before my pending dental appointments.
But if something untoward (and unlikely) happens, are people going to judge me by my closets? (That would make them weird, too.) And do I care if they do? (Maybe. There is my reputation.)
There’s nothing wrong with stuff. We all need some stuff. What else would we sit on? It’s a problem, though, when it’s the first thing I think about when facing a challenge. Yep, weird.
I like Marie Kondo’s view of “stuff:” “If it sparks joy, keep it. If it doesn’t spark joy, thank it for its service and let it go.”
I’m more inclined toward, “If I paid money for it, keep it. Never let it go.” Which leads to more stuff. And time and effort managing it. And really, not much joy.
Paul said, “I have learned to be satisfied with what I have and with whatever happens.” (Philippians 4:11b Easy-to-Read Version). “What I have” (full cupboards) and “whatever happens” (dental procedures). That covers just about everything I’m obsessing about right now.
And even the best stuff is temporary. We brought absolutely nothing with us when we entered the world and we can be sure we shall take absolutely nothing with us when we leave it. Surely then, as far as physical things are concerned, it is sufficient for us to keep our bodies fed and clothed.
(1 Timothy 6:6-7 J.B. Phillips New Testament)
I do have food and clothing. I have plenty of stuff to make life comfortable. Instead of thinking about an imaginary, self-imposed deadline (and an overstuffed kitchen cabinet), perhaps I should focus on the truth: “… the joy of the Lord is your strength.” (Nehemiah 8:10b NIV)
The Lord is the source of my strength and joy. A well cared-for house full of stuff is just … stuff.
“The joy of the Lord” is mine. Whatever happens.