I’d be a fool not to respond to God’s nudge to please Husband and support our church in it’s effort to raise money for Haiti, right? Talk about a twofer.
For twelve (of the twelve) years we’ve been married, the garage has been a minor point of contention between me and Husband. He likes to park his truck in the garage, and I tend to use it to park everything else. And by everything else I mean our stuff. Our garage is definitely the landing spot for things that don’t have a logical place.
There’s a telling phrase that goes something like, ‘only in America do we have a special room for our junk, while our cars sit unprotected on the street’. Convicting, huh? The thought has been volleying around in my mind for awhile, but cleaning out the garage somehow never makes it to the top of my to-do list. But, the task is very much on my radar.
I know, you might be thinking ‘isn’t the garage Husband’s domain?’ Well, yes. And, no. Husband definitely spends more time in the garage than I do. He tinkers with tools, fishing tackle, sports gear, lawn supplies, and other manly things like ladders and the power washer. All these things actually have a place in the garage and Husband does a (relatively) good job of keeping it all orderly. What causes his head to throb is my arbitrary choice to use the garage as the holding pen for items I’m too indecisive to make a decision about. You know the stuff I’m talking about…
- children’s clothes that need to go to Goodwill
- a table from a garage sale that turned out to be a decorating flop
- a dresser from the same sale
- a box spring that came with the iron bed which was a coup from the aforementioned garage sale
- picture frames left over from a failed attempt to decorate bookshelves
- a salad spinner that got replaced by a more efficient model
- framed prints purchased in Paris twenty-five years ago
- boxes of paperback books
You get the idea. Pile on all the daily activity of bikes, scooters, helmets, seasonal equipment and voila the garage is akin to the Island of Misfit Toys.
So when our pastor announced the Helping Hands for Haiti Rummage Sale, I set forth on a mission.
I’m finally cleaning out the garage and taking it all to church for the sale on Saturday. I don’t know why it’s hard to let go of some of these items. Perhaps because many of them still have a monetary value associated with them? It stings that those decisions, most of them mine, were unwise allocations of our resources. I’ve impulsively spent money on things that ultimately end up in the garage. Keeping them in the purgatory of our garage not only reminds Husband of my decisions, it just clutters life up.
Most nights, after a long day at work, Husband enters our home through the garage. My prayer is that on Monday when he crosses the threshold into the home he generously provides our family, Husband won’t have quite as much to trip over. And more importantly, the things which we have taken for granted in our garage will find their way to help those devastated by the earthquake in Haiti.
If you live near by and have things that are cluttering up your life, come join us at The Helping Hands for Haiti Rummage Sale!
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