By Andrea Goebel
God’s Way
It started as an organizational project that turned into a purge of nearly every room in our house.
In preparation for the birth of our third child, I began sorting through messes of excess in our house, and I focused the majority of my efforts on one room in particular.
It’s intended to be our exercise room, but it has also become a holding place for all items that don’t have a permanent place of their own. Clothes that may be awaiting storage or donation, tubs that hold sentimental pieces of my childhood, and other items that I just really don’t know what to do with.
One morning as I was exercising, inspiration struck: I could clean out this room in preparation for the baby, part with some things I hadn’t been able to previously, and make space available for our children’s needs.
So, over the course of the next month, I sorted through the various boxes and tubs stacked throughout the room. Books and photo albums went on shelves; the clothes my daughter had outgrown went into storage. I put extra blankets into a box to donate, and I packed up centerpieces from our wedding with the hope that someone else could use them.
The process felt easy until I began to sift through more personal belongings: dresses I’d worn on special occasions, awards from accomplishments I’d achieved, and Christmas and birthday cards from years past.
I didn’t want to face the task of parting with these items because I had developed an emotional attachment to them, but what good were they doing stored in my basement? Could someone else possibly use them? Should I part with those that just took up storage space?
With the realization that if I held onto everything, I wouldn’t have room to preserve my children’s memories, I forged ahead. I donated several dresses, and I kept only those cards that were truly sentimental. However, as I sorted through trophies and medals I’d earned from various races I’d run, I paused and returned them to storage; the thought of parting with them felt like I was letting go of the memories attached to them.
Later, I continued to think about those awards. Were they really preserving valuable memories while they were stuffed away inside a box that was inside a tub that would be stacked in a room out of sight and out of mind? No, they weren’t. The real memories were impressed into my heart already.
As I contemplated this concept, Jesus’ words in Matthew 6:19-21 popped into my head, a God-moment for sure: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and decay destroy, and thieves break in and steal. But store up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor decay destroys, nor thieves break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.”
His words convicted me to the core: if I focus on the rewards I receive from this life, then what is the aim of my heart? What am I teaching my children? I want them to aim for heaven, to practice kindness, forgiveness and sacrifice. But to teach them those virtues, I need to practice them myself first.
I plan to revisit the storage room and sort through those medals from long ago. I may keep a few that represent significant personal achievements, such as overcoming adversity or reaching a goal I never thought I would attain. Those may even turn into teachable moments for my children.
The thought of recycling the rest gives my heart peace. If I can sacrifice these things I once deemed too important to part with, what else can I let go of when God calls me to it? What else can I give him in my pursuit of heaven?
Perhaps that can be a teachable moment, too.