When we seek God in simple things, blessings permeate our lives
I strive to live with my eyes open to God’s presence in the ordinary day. Even the simplest of life’s experiences can mimic a C.S. Lewis novel. Like Lewis, God is always trying to teach me through these events.
Recently, we hired a painting contractor. This project included everything in the front rooms, the kitchen cabinets and island.
The results amazed us. The experience proved to be complicated. The painting contractor team consisted of a father and his two sons. When they finished the project, we missed interacting with them. They are wonderful men of God.
We had much to do during the project. We moved the furniture, stripped the walls, and removed wall plug covers; you get the picture. We filled every non-project room in the house, including the garage. One evening, I had to unwrap the microwave to cook dinner. We camped out in our house for two weeks. I was organized chaos.
But I digress. What did God have to say to me through this experience? I saw a connection new to me.
Decluttering relates intimately to mercy.
As I read scripture, the themes of decluttering and mercy spoke to me, and I asked God to show me how they connected. I searched the internet for scriptural articles on the two subjects, and I began to understand.
Clutter also gathers in the heart. When I neglect the spiritual clutter that accumulates in me, my ability to see God’s grace diminishes. I refuse to forgive, hold on to anger, and keep record of wrongs, large and small. I stop seeing things as gifts from God, and harbor feelings of regret, remorse and unworthiness. The spiritual clutter builds up.
I want karma, but Christ doesn’t allow it, for it diminishes God’s grace. Thank you, Pastor John, for that insight.
Marie Kondo said to ask if the item gives us joy. I don’t ask that of a material thing. God is the source of joy, a gift of the Spirit.
Still, I do feel a sense of freedom when I declutter, and simplify my surroundings. The project required us to handle each item in our cupboards and drawers, shelf items and wall hangings. It was a chance to evaluate whether to keep things, or let them go.
Perhaps, if I simplify my surroundings, I’ll sit quietly, and listen for God to speak. He is the God of mercy and compassion, and I need His grace in order to forgive others, to let go of attitudes and anger that interfere with my relationship to Him.
But it’s not easy. I can’t say a prayer, and expect to declutter my mind and heart. Like my physical home, clutter continues to accumulate. Thankfully, our Father knows this.
“As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13-14, NIV.)
When I realize how much I need God’s mercy, compassion, and grace, I realize my obligation to offer them to others. Merciful action is the essence of spiritual living. My pastor recently said, “We are to be purveyors of God’s grace.
I have adopted this as my personal motto. I repeat the phrase several times a day. While I won’t deny the truths in scripture, I strive not to grumble, or be resentful and judgmental of others. Our society promotes self-reliance and independence, but I don’t want my possessions, status, or popularity to become the rock I hold onto.
“ He saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we have done, but because of His own compassion and mercy, by the cleansing of the new birth (spiritual transformation, regeneration) and renewing by the Holy Spirit,” (Titus 3:5, AMP.)
Every act of forgiveness and mercy entails a battle against evil, a battle that one can engage and win only in the power of the Spirit. Christ never meant for us to fight this battle alone.
In her book, Liturgy of the Ordinary: Sacred Practices in Everyday Life (IVP Books, c.2016, p. 31), Tish Harrison Warren states, “But God has loved and sought us—not only as individuals, but corporately as a people over millennia. As we learn the words, practices, and rhythms of faith hewn by our brothers and sisters throughout history, we learn to live our days in worship . . . Our hearts and our loves are shaped by the things we do again and again and again. On Sunday in gathered worship, we learn to sit together in repetition and in predictability. We learn the repetitive, slow rhythms of a life of faith.”
We learn, hopefully, to declutter our heart, and sit still before our awesome God of mercy, compassion and grace. And, perhaps, just listen.
I want to live gladly in the reality of God’s love and grace, and be a purveyor of God’s grace to others. To do this, I must acknowledge my spiritual clutter, and work continually to clear it out. When I feel unworthy to draw near to the Father, I remember that I’m not worthy, yet Christ died for me, and I seek Him.
He’s too wonderful to take in. Like the prodigal father of scripture, God waits for me, and offers His mercy, compassion and grace. Abba Father.
Selah.