Simplicity is attractive.
Minimalism is growing (I love oxymorons, heheh...)
Marie Kondo has earned her following.
But I am not one of them.
Some days, ok, most days, I wish I was. Clutter often overwhelms me.
It’s embarrassing when a stranger comes to the door. Crunched Cheerios underfoot, varying levels of clothing on children, books and papers strewn everywhere, the smell of burned toast, sounds of sibling rivalry, Legos, balls, dolls, cups, glitter, dinosaurs and muddy boots...
It’s been a month. We still haven’t found the tv remote.
I picked a half-eaten cucumber off the top bunk today. It’s the 13 year old’s bed. He said it wasn’t his.
It’s not that we don’t pick up. Or maybe it is. We just don’t pick up enough.
But today, instead of cursing the clutter, I’m going to bless it.
The shoes and boots surrounding the door mean my kids go outside to play and do chores.
The half-eaten sandwich means my growing boys are learning to feed themselves and their siblings.
The abundant toys mean they have generous grandparents (Plus when every year means 7 different birthdays, the legos start to add up).
The books and papers mean my children have access to huge amounts of information. And they use it.
As we filled boxes to send with Operation Christmas Child this past week, my 6 year old couldn’t grasp the idea that these might be the first toys another child has ever owned.
And a little effort to give some Stuff to them might make a difference to their whole Life.
Stuff is what we make it.
Today, it’s making me thankful.
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