“Did you remember to take out the trash?” the Lord asks, all the while knowing I had not.

“The trash?” I respond.  “Well, good morning to you, too, Lord.  Why is the trash such a big deal to be the first utterance of the day?”  I look at the trash bag in the corner of my room; full and ready to overflow if I try to toss one more thing into it.  It seems to be harmless. No big deal in just letting it sit there.

“Clutter.  It’s about the clutter.  You are trying to move on and not be slowed down by reluctance, by fear, or by lack of direction.  But the clutter builds up around you and draws you aside.  It’s time for some good cleaning, starting with trash removal,” my Lord says to me. “That’s the worst kind of clutter – leaving that which you have thrown away, leaving that residue, to yet take space in your life and fill the air around you.”

I know I do need to clean my room. I do need to empty the trash, but I sense we are talking much more than the physical here.

“Yes, it’s also about your soul,” he confirms. “Have you ever thrown something away, only to go back and pull it out of the trash again a day later?” he asks, with both of us knowing that I have. “You do that more than you realize. And you do it most often in your soul. You go back and look for what you had already deemed was not useful to you, what does not serve you, what no longer works. You go back and pick it out of the trash heap in hopes it may have some resurrected benefit for you.  Trust me.  It doesn’t,” he says with finality.

He sits quietly while I ponder the words.  I get it.  It is the clutter that I keep digging through that disturbs my sleep. It’s the lying in bed at night wondering about this, about that, . . . about what I should have said differently, about what signal I missed, about if I should go back and try to fix one situation or another, . . . endless digging through the trash bin.  I get it.  I best get that bin emptied, remove it completely from the room.

“Let me help you with that,” the Lord continues. “Let’s burn it so that it does not remain a temptation to you.”

That thought does make me flinch. It makes me realize that I like dumpster diving! Oh no, I didn’t know that! It keeps me living in the past – the familiar, the comfortable – and keeps me from moving on down the road I’m standing on.  This is part of that reluctance we’ve been discussing. Despite my good intentions and sincere commitment, I am still stuck, and this is why.

“Okay, Lord,” I say, handing him the box of matches.  He hands them back to me.

“You do it.  You set fire to the heap,” he tells me. “I’ll stand with you and protect you so that the fire does not touch you, so that it cannot turn and consume you. I will watch over you and cover you.”

It’s not long before the blaze ends, the smoke rises up and away, and behind it a clear, blue sky emerges. It’s not long before my lungs are cleared of the smoke inhaled. It’s not long before I rise up, and start once again to move down the dirt road under my feet.  Now I’m ready.