Stuff, Stuff and More Stuff

Matthew 6:20 (New International Version)
But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.



Wow, I feel like I have so much to tell right now. I had planned on blogging about everything that's been going on in my life. I'm feeling much better than when I last posted and thanks for the prayers. So much is going on in my life (as usual), but that will have to wait, because this just happened...



There was an old looking (but not so old) purple bike at the side of my house in a little fenced in area. It had been sitting there in the weather for a couple of years. I don't remember how it first ended up out there. Originally, someone gave it to us when they moved out of state and were trying to get rid of as much stuff as possible. It was a very nice bike when we received it. I was the one who had planned on using it, but never did and because of the way it had been treated, it wasn't so nice any more...



Today a 5th grader, an adorable boy, rang my doorbell and asked "Would you like to donate a purple bike to the homeless?" At first I didn't know what he was talking about and looked at him a bit perplexed. Then he laughed and said "Nah, I'm just kidding." Then it dawned on me that he was talking about that bike at the side of the house. I told him he could have it even though I'm not sure that it's fixable. I'm pretty sure that it's too rusty, but he looked like he was up for a challenge and he really wanted it, so he took it home.



The conversation with the boy was such a blessing and it felt good to say that he could take the bike, but it has me thinking again...there are so many reasons I need to work on my nature as a pack rat. I have SO MUCH STUFF that I don't use and much of it I never will. Many of the things that have my home overflowing could be a blessing to others. Why do I hold on to all of it? It reminds me a bit of this great poem:

SARAH CYNTHIA SYLVIA STOUT

by Shel Silverstein

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout

Would not take the garbage out.

She'd wash the dishes and scrub the pans

Cook the yams and spice the hams,

And though her parents would scream and shout,

She simply would not take the garbage out.

And so it piled up to the ceiling:

Coffee grounds, potato peelings,

Brown bananas and rotten peas,

Chunks of sour cottage cheese.

It filled the can, it covered the floor,

It cracked the windows and blocked the door,

With bacon rinds and chicken bones,

Drippy ends of ice cream cones,

Prune pits, peach pits, orange peels,

Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal,

Pizza crusts and withered greens,

Soggy beans, and tangerines,

Crusts of black-burned buttered toast,

Grisly bits of beefy roast.

The garbage rolled on down the halls,

It raised the roof, it broke the walls,

I mean, greasy napkins, cookie crumbs,

Blobs of gooey bubble gum,

Cellophane from old bologna,

Rubbery, blubbery macaroni,

Peanut butter, caked and dry,

Curdled milk, and crusts of pie,

Rotting melons, dried-up mustard,

Eggshells mixed with lemon custard,

Cold French fries and rancid meat,

Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat.

At last the garbage reached so high

That finally it touched the sky,

And none of her friends would come to play,

And all of her neighbors moved away;

And finally, Sarah Cynthia Stout

Said, "Okay, I'll take the garbage out!"

But then, of course it was too late,

The garbage reached across the state,

From New York to the Golden Gate;

And there in the garbage she did hate

Poor Sarah met an awful fate

That I cannot right now relate

Because the hour is much too late

But children, remember Sarah Stout,

And always take the garbage out.

I'm better than I used to be. I am working on releasing more of the things in my home...and I stopped buying more things I don't really need several years ago. When I was a stay-at-home mom, Flylady helped me start to get things under control and it really was helping so much, but once I went to work full time the backsliding, oh how it did happen!



I know you're working on me, Lord. Oh how I wish I were better at listening to you. Now off to take out the trash...