Friday, March 16, 2007

Dear God,

I am throwing things away. I opened a red two-drawer file to find some of my writings. What I found instead were cards I had saved following the death of my mother. How do you toss loving thoughts, prayers, words of hope and comfort? Then I discovered old papers I had written in seminary. The Theology of Evangelism. Spirituality in Ministry. Theology on the Religions. Hours and hours of hard work! How do I get rid of my own process in theological thinking? Then I unearthed notes and cards from my children, Mother's Day, anniversaries, birthday, heart-felt words for a mother's heart. Throw away my own children's writings?

Why did I save all these? I held onto messages about my mother's death because I somehow felt closer to her. If I kept them close at hand, I might not feel such loss. I'm not sure why I kept my seminary work. They are not particularly outstanding. My first paper was a C. I was devastated. "Do you think God is glorified in this work?" My first professor wrote on my paper. I wanted to fall into the abyss. I failed to glorify God! It got better. Most were A's with some B's. And my children's words? What mother can part with them?

When I had cancer, I received hundreds of notes, cards, and letters. Each one warmed my heart, encouraged my spirit. I kept them in a special basket for months. Then I moved them in the basket downstairs. A couple years ago (eight years following my diagnosis) I reread them, then let them go. Parting was such sweet sorrow, as the saying goes.

Sometimes I need loving messages to keep me going, especially when I feel down, insecure, unsafe, or just blue. But is it necessary to hold in my hand a card that says I love you? I suspect at times I have forgotten the message or imagined no one cared. I probably held my own pity party. The messages perked me up.

Now that I am downsizing, trying to de-clutter my home for retirement in little more than two years, I have to make a decision. Do I keep it or let it go? And if I choose to keep it, then I must understand if my husband wants to keep his 70+ boxes of ministry papers, books, artifacts, drawings, etc. Good grief!

As I sat on the cold concrete floor, I leaned over to pull the pink waste basket closer. One by one, I said thanks and put them in the can. Goodbye, Theology of Evangelism. Of course, I saved the most precious ones. But most I had to release. It seems unfair to expect our children to have to go through everything someday. I figure I'm doing them a favor.

As I walk from room to room, I ask myself, "Is this necessary? Do I really need this?" My home is a museum of memory. Pictures of family, gifts given, special items, family heirlooms, each one telling their own unique story. Do I have to hold on to each thing in order to have the memory? Probably not.

I'm grateful to all those who blessed me during difficult times. In fact several who wrote me beautiful notes have since died themselves. Precious people from former churches. I loved them all. I give thanks to God for inspiration that lead people to write me. I am blessed.

Dear God,
will you throw away my letters?
Or are they etched
upon your heart?
Is it okay to let go
of such wonderful gifts
of love?
I know I hold
the memory of love.
And I am grateful.
But how do I unclutter,
yet hold near and dear
all those
who have remembered me
in the trials of my life?
I'm not the first
to downsize.
I could use
a little help here.

Love, Andrea