Binders, Bondage, and Blessings

We're on vacation now, and I'm blogging from Myrtle Beach. More about that later on this ZMZ station.

I wanted to report on a major big feat our family accomplished as a team on August 15th and 16th, the weekend before we left on vacation. (Yes, we procrastinated all summer, but then we produced.) We worked together to dejunk the back of the basement, a project we'd been putting off for a long time. On Friday night, Paul pulled it all out and set it in the living area of the basement. Sarah bought big Sterilite bins with lids and reorganized Christmas stuff. She convinced me to get rid of the old Christmas stockings that I held dear by saying there was stuck-on chocolate in the bottom of them. I didn't check, but I needed to let go. They weren't in good shape and needed all sorts of creative fasteners to keep them from falling off the banister all Season long. Stephen and Ben carried trash, trash, and more trash to the garage en route to the dump. Joel did his part by steering clear of the mess.

Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but being the self-disclosing fool that I am, let me just blurt it out: I sorted through fifteen years of old homeschooling stuff. I whittled it all down to three thick binders. Fifteen years in eight hours. (Sometimes I amaze even myself. It's the only way I can compensate for my shame that I had 15 years of homeschool memorabilia to start with.) Throwing things out was easier than I thought. My rule of thumb: keep what shows their personality and creativity. That meant creative writing, cards, a few pictures they'd drawn, and some ribbons they'd earned. The rest got pitched.

Why did I have so much stuff? Two reasons: fear and sentimentality. In the early days of homeschooling, I had a paralyzing fear that the State of Maryland would someday "audit" us and I would need to "prove" we were keeping up. Fear is a horrible motivator. What was I thinking? I mean, what public school has ever made a parent show their kid's schoolwork at the end of a year? Fear of "someday" compelled me to keep stuff for the future. Sentimentality compelled me to keep stuff from the past. I can honestly say that God has released me from so much bondage. I am not afraid of tomorrow anymore; I am confident that God is my Defender and Provider. I don't need "stuff." I treasure much from the past, but I realize that no matter how much stuff I keep to remind myself of the "good ole days," I can't get those days back, nor would I trade them for the beauty of life as it is now.