Monday, June 25, 2012
As I continue to sift through closets, the garage, attic, drawers, files, boxes, I am amazed at what has come through my doors and been stored in forty years. I have had a headache for the last week. Granted, it is diagnosed as a sinus infection, but I suspect it is the weight of this “stuff” boggling my mind and burdening my spirit. I continue attempting how to dispense all of these items.
I have sent fifty plus boxes to the auction and will take a large load tomorrow. The mission truck will take about thirty boxes plus some furniture. I have given linens and pottery to friends, packed boxes for the kids with the few treasures they want, and still the house seems full. I have had a huge yard sale and two art sales. I have worked at giving, donating, selling, and packing for 25 days.
How do we accumulate so much? I knew my art room was packed with supplies, but I never imagined I had so many magazines, paints, papers, scrapbooks, and stamps. If this move has taught me anything, it has shown me accumulation is a curse. I have tried to store up manna, and God clearly said it could not be done. I never realized manna could be defined as abundance, collections, supplies, or antiques. Now, I understand why someone declared, “The greatest inheritance to your children is to rid your home of collections from the past years.”
I am pledging that I am done with carrying items into my house. I desire to keep our new home clear of anything extra. I suspect my hoarding is a result of my mother, grandmother, and grandfather, who were reared in poverty and saved everything to be reused or redesigned into a useful item. I apparently mimicked their collecting even though I have not known their kind of poverty. After twelve years of retirement, I realize I should have tried this purging much earlier. Instead, I went to conventions and learned new things to make, do, and collect.
On with my sorting and giving and packing. This life lesson is most sobering and exhausting.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
|The two reasons I am moving.|
Ouch, sniff, sniff, breathe, pray more, more and more. These are the windows into my emotions as I am looking for a new home in Fort Wayne, the second largest city in Indiana. There are many homes but few near the children. Most homes are two stories. I know that would be fine now, but in ten years I might regret that decision.
Who would think finding a small ranch home on which Denny and I could agree would be this difficult? He likes neat and clean. I like artsy and designed. Other than that we are doing pretty well. We don’t want a big yard, but, of course, I need a few flowers and hostas. We are looking for little maintenance and upkeep. Each chapter of life brings new changes, unsolicited problems, and decisions. I think that God designs our life path in that way , so we lean on Him more.
I am already missing my neighbor, my writing buddies, my painting teacher and our classes. I tell myself maybe God will place me where someone needs Him, and I could be that vessel He would choose to use. I have always consoled myself with the message that I am God’s and He designed me to be used by Him . That doesn’t make change any easier, just understandable.
The little girls crawled in bed with me this morning with favorite books. We read and giggled and Ava reminded me I am an artist and that is why she chose these books for my morning awakening. Ellie says, “Mimi , don’t look for a house, just bring yours from Muncie.” Ava replies, “Our yard isn’t big enough.”
Oh how simple a three year old sees life. She keeps me smiling through my adjustment tears. The window of “little girls” is small, and I want to be here for recitals, temper tantrums, giggles, and Franky Zoo walks. I want to teach them the power of the love of God and His presence each day in their lives.
I know finding a house will help me think through what furniture I can bring, how many dishes I really need, and what antiques need to be sold. The collections of forty years bring me to my knees. I look at each collection: bears, Celtic china and crystal, books, CD’s , craft supplies, oils, water colors, canvases, antiques , and friends, and realize a truth. None are hard to leave in Muncie, except my friends. I know I am an hour and fifteen minutes away, but I am realistic to know that I will be doing more babysitting and dance and soccer watching. I know I will return, but it will be different. Thank you for listening and understanding that writing is the way I process my life journey. Thank you for your advice and understanding of my mutterings. Most of all, please keep me covered in your prayers.