More Room for What Matters

Spring cleaning. Decluttering. Minimalism. Call it what you want, but what if God is using all of it to teach us something far deeper than a tidy closet?

My friends,

This morning I stepped outside with my iced coffee (yes, iced!), because it is already warm and glorious here in Mississippi and I am not sorry.  The sun was doing that beautiful thing it does in (almost) spring, the kind of warmth that feels like a exhale after winter. My cat Moe was right there with me, completely unbothered with life... until a squirrel strutted across the fence like he owned the property, and Moe absolutely lost his mind. I laughed out loud, just me, my coffee, and this silly cat.

And then, the birds.

They were back. I had my app open, identifying them one by one. A Carolina Wren. A mockingbird. A flash of a goldfinch. And something in my chest just settled. That quiet, full-hearted joy that only comes when you notice that life is returning. That new things are coming.

Spring does that. It reminds you that God is always, always doing something new.

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."  Isaiah 43:19

The Clutter We Don't Talk About: 

I had one box. Just one. Sitting in the corner of a room, minding its own business. Except it wasn't really, because every time I walked past it, it quietly reminded me that I hadn't dealt with it yet.

So I finally opened it. And friends, one box was enough to do something to my heart.

Now, before I go any further, I want to say something important. Not all holding on is wrong. Some things deserve to be kept. The photo of your mother at the kitchen table. Your father's handwriting on a birthday card. The little things that carry someone's memory forward when they are no longer here to carry it themselves.

Some of us have become the keepers. The ones in line now, holding the memories, the stories, the pieces of people we loved, so they are not forgotten. That is not clutter. That is love in physical form, and there is nothing wrong with honoring it.

This is not about letting go of what is sacred. God himself is a God of remembrance.

"I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago."  Psalm 77:11

What I am talking about is the other stuff. The things we hold onto out of guilt, fear, or scarcity. The "just in case" pile. The things that no longer serve us but that we can't release because letting go feels like losing control.

Can I tell you something? That is not just a decluttering problem. That is a heart problem.

And God, in His gentle, loving way, used one dusty box to show me what I had been white-knuckling in my soul.

What Jesus Said About Stuff:

We live in a world absolutely saturated with more. More things, more options, more storage solutions to hold all the more things we buy. The average American home contains over 300,000 items. Three hundred thousand. And we are more anxious, more overwhelmed, and more exhausted.

Jesus saw this coming. He always does.

"Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions."  Luke 12:15

He didn't say possessions are evil. He said life does not consist in them. There's a difference. The problem isn't having things, it's when things start having us.

A friend of mine told me once that she realized she was working extra hours not because she needed to, but because she wanted to afford a bigger house to store things she didn't actually use. She said it quietly, like she was confessing something. And in a way, she was. She had let accumulation become a false sense of security. Things were standing in the place where trust in God was supposed to live.

"No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money."  Matthew 6:24

Spring Cleaning as a Spiritual Practice

Here is what nobody tells you about decluttering: it is an act of faith.

When you let go of the "just in case" pile, you are saying:  God, I trust You to provide what I need when I need it.

When you donate the things you've been hoarding out of scarcity, you are saying: God, You are my source, not my stockpile.

When you clear out the old to make room for the new, you are agreeing with what God has been whispering all along: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!" Isaiah 43:18-19

Ecclesiastes reminds us that there is wisdom in the rhythm of seasons, including the season of release: "A time to keep and a time to throw away." Ecclesiastes 3:6

Not everything is meant to come with you into the next season. Some things served their purpose. Some things were for a chapter that is now closed. And that is not loss, that is growth.

It's Not Just About the Boxes

Let's be honest, because that is what we are here for. Sometimes the clutter is not in our closets. It's in our hearts.

Old bitterness we keep revisiting. Grudges we've filed neatly away and labeled "justified." Worry we carry like a bag we refuse to set down. Expectations of how life was supposed to look that we grip so tightly our knuckles are white. 

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." Ephesians 4:31-32

Friend. That is the deepest kind of spring cleaning. And God does not ask you to do it alone.

Holding Things Loosely

There is a posture that I am learning. Slowly, imperfectly, and it is the posture of open hands.

Not grasping. Not clutching. Not hoarding blessings out of fear they won't come again, or holding onto pain because it's become part of my identity.

Open hands.

"But godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it." 1 Timothy 6:6-7

Contentment is not having everything you want. It is being fully present with what God has given today. It is the iced coffee in the morning sun. It is the silly cat terrorizing the squirrel on the fence. It is the birds coming back and your heart quietly saying - thank You. You didn't forget us.

Paul wrote this from prison, and I never want to forget that: "I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content." Philippians 4:11

Learned. He learned it. That means it took practice. It means you don't arrive at contentment. You choose it, again and again, in the small moments and the hard ones.

A Practical & Prayerful Place to Start

If the Lord is stirring something in you, whether it is a closet full of boxes or a heart full of weight you were never meant to carry, here is a gentle place to begin:

Physically: Pick one corner. One drawer. One box. Ask yourself honestly: does this serve my life and my family today? If not, release it. Give it, donate it, let it go. You don't need permission to have less.

Spiritually: Sit with the Lord and ask - what am I holding that You have been asking me to release? Let Him answer. He will be gentle. He is always gentle. 

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28

He is not asking you to be perfect. He is asking you to come. To open your hands. To trust that what He has ahead is better than what you've been clutching behind.

The birds came back, friends. They always do.

After every winter, after every hard season, every waiting room, every loss - life returns. New things come. God makes a way.

This spring, let something go. And watch what God brings in its place.

With love and an iced coffee, Andrea.


Did this speak to your heart? Share it with a friend who needs a little breathing room this season. And if you're walking through a hard season of letting go, leave a comment below, I'd love to pray for you. ☕


Comments

  1. Please pray for me and my family. Sarah from Vermont.

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  2. Praying for you and your family, Sarah.

    ReplyDelete

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