It's Just Stuff...

My family and I are getting ready to go to California for Thanksgiving. While we are gone we are having 'house sitters'. Knowing others will be occupying my home in our absence has forced me to view it through the eyes of outsiders, and I must confess...it has not been good for my mental state. This past week, I've absolutely driven myself insane analyzing all the things wrong with my little home.

As a former once 'quasi-homestager' who spent much of her time staging her own home (even when it wasn't on the market) I find it challenging to except my house as appearing 'lived in'. Now some of you reading this may think, "Well, that definitely is not my struggle" - and for those people I say... "Lucky YOU" Because THOSE who do struggle with this torturous affliction know how absolutely consuming and distracting it can become.

Two days ago my husband came home and I was in somewhat of a funky mood... alright, I won't candy coat it...I was unbearably grumpy...in the flesh totally and completely. I was going down a road in my mind and could not stop. My mental brakes had gone out and I was spiraling out of control in my thinking. So my husband ever so delicately asked, "What's WRONG with you?" I quickly retorted..."I can't stand that everything is falling apart." I had been thinking all day about how things were in a state of deterioration and I had no ability to stop the inevitable from occurring and no money to replace the shabby things. I proceeded to complain to my husband about every little thing that was bugging me and how I didn't know what was wrong with me, I couldn't walk into a room without seeing what was wrong with it - The minor rip in the linoleum in the laundry room, the wallpaper tear in the bathroom, the broken chair in the dining room, the smudge on the wall in the living room, the stained shower floor in the bathroom (caused by my insane spray painting phase - when I was convinced spray paint was life's solution to all problems)... you get the point. Even in spite of my wrong thinking, the Lord was majorly convicting me in my heart about my need for perfection. Nothing in this world is perfect - only Him - everything else is in a state of deterioration- but my flesh was way fighting the truth of that fact.

So the next morning, Sean had gotten up early and left for GFA before the rest of us were even up. I pulled my self out of bed, had my quiet time and a few cups of coffee. After that, I walked out to the living room and on my way stopped dead in my tracks at the most shocking sight. On my dining room table sat the clothes iron, and next to that...two BIG burn marks in the perfect shape of an iron right on top of my dining room table. I've included a picture for you sheer amusement.

Needless to say, I was not happy. All I could hear the Lord saying was..."It's just a table, it's just a table...in the grand scheme of things what does it matter... it's just a table." Well, I was still less than thrilled. It may have been just a table, but it was MY table... the one I had to walk past 1000 times a day. It was such a slap in the face in light of the battle I had been facing all week. Actually, looking back it was almost laughable- but not at that moment. So, what did I do? I went to the computer and shot off the following email to my husband...

Darling...

Did you realize that you destroyed the finish on the dining room table with the iron this morning? I realize that the table is already in rough shape and all...due to careless movers... but the burn marks in the perfect shape of the iron really put it over the edge :-( I'm deeply saddened by this and must confess I almost cried. I'm not sure why I'm telling you this, maybe deep down I want to make you feel bad, even though I know that's not right. Maybe I'm hoping you will surprise me with a new table, although logic tells me that's impossible. Maybe misery justs wants company. Maybe I just need to complain ...Yes, that's it. I'll get it out of my system right now, let you have it over email, and then promise never to mention it again. Maybe, God will be gracious and blind my eyes to it's imperfections... (the table's, that is...not yours) Just kidding....maybe he'll blind me to both. I must confess, God is really stretching me in the area of perfectionism right now, which I believe is just another form of mammonism - if that's a thing. Pray that He will help me conquer this and just be OK with things being flawed and imperfect. Because really, in the end, what choice do I have but to be OK with it.

So in closing, all of that just to say...I forgive you. Even though there wasn't a note of apology waiting for me when I got up this morning, or a dozen red roses, or an email or a phone call in preparation for such a horrendous shock...I still forgive you. Even though this incident has flooded my mind with memories forcing me to recall every occasion in which you have been responsible (either directly or indirectly) for destroying something I love.... 150+ year old family heirloom rocking chair, every glass salad/mixing bowl I ever owned, my beautiful, big, expensive mirror that would have looked fantabulous above our present day mantle....just to name a few things. But don't feel bad, because I have FORGIVEN YOU! And why have a chosen to forgive such huge and unforgivable acts, you may ask? Because... 1. I have too. 2. Because you give fantastic massages. :-)

Have a nice day. And by the way, you have my word that I will never mention this incident again (well, at least until the next incident occurs)

Your Loving Wife

To which he replied...

Thank you for your forgiveness. In a moment of hurry and in need of a minor touch up of my shirt (caused by the hanger), I put it on the table super fast...it was the steam that did it in. I immediately grabbed the furniture polish to try and mitigate the damage, and I thought it might have worked, but no such luck. I AM SO SORRY!! I have resolved to make it right by refinishing the top for you as a Christmas present...won't cost anything but a little bit of stain and sweat from my brow.

I thought about telling you before I left, but decided that the timing would be bad with you not even quite awake. You have certainly endured many losses of material possessions at my hands either directly or indirectly - and for that, I apologize. I do appreciate that you won't be rubbing all of this in my face or digging up the hatchet to throw at my head. That does help. And I am sorry that I have to be the instrument that God is using to stretch you in dying to yourself and growing you in Grace and Love. I believe that is why He gave us to one another...more opportunities to love and forgive than one could ever imagine. I love you so much and I know I owe you a massage...

Your clumsy, yet lovable husband

How could I not forgive that :-) He had me chuckling all morning... and laughter is such good medicine.

So, the Lord taught me a valuable lesson this week. 1. It's just stuff 2. It's just stuff

I know that's not exactly the deepest most spiritual lesson out there, but for me it's huge. It goes to the heart of so many of the things I find myself battling with....envy, covetousness, discontentment, pride....it's all of those things.

So, I've determined in my heart not to fix or replace the table...for now. God knows I need visual, 'in my face', constant reminders of the lessons he is teaching me... and right now, those little burn marks are teaching me that ... it's just stuff.