Robbie Burns’ question about “auld” acquaintances also applies to my “auld” clutter. How much longer am I going to keep my 1994 issues of Southern Living magazine?
Since my retirement three years ago, I have been attempting to purge the past and surge ahead. I am on a first-name basis with the young man at the Goodwill store, and I can now see the floors of my closets. “Less is more,” so they say.
Nonetheless, taking Elsa’s advice has been difficult for me. Many of the items I’ve been accumulating over the years have sentimental value. For example, I treasure the Christmas cards I receive from childhood friends, but I can treasure the sentiments in my heart. I don’t have to keep the cards.
Giving away my Dynasty jackets with the three-inch shoulder pads will make space for some new cute tops in my closet. Shredding my tax return from 1990 should be safe at this point. Not keeping my old classroom syllabi is okay. I won’t be using them again.
As I purge the red and green from my home tomorrow, I want to focus on the possibilities—removing the old to give room for the new.
I want to spend more time in 2018 reading and writing. I believe both of these areas offer some exciting new possibilities.
According to Bob Hostetler’s The Bard and the Bible, “Wisdom looks forward . . . and rejoices in whatever ‘new thing’ God is doing.” (I highly recommend this book of devotions, by the way.)
I don’t want to be foolish like Lot’s wife. I want to wisely look ahead to the new things God has planned for my life. I am eager to rejoice in the opportunities of 2018.
Yesterday, when I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But today, now that I am older and wiser, I need to put away childish things. I want to come face to face with a hopeful new year.
According to Tennyson, “a [wo]man’s reach should exceed [her] grasp, or what’s a heaven for?”
I am ready to reach and willing to let go.
Romans 12:2; Isaiah 43:18-19