Hitting Pause

I realized this week that we're officially past the halfway mark of Lent, so I'm taking a moment to hit the pause button and take a look back. Like any good practice, I think it's good for both accountability and processing to take a moment and check in on where I am with both my goals and my soul--good, bad, and in-between.

My first goal was to declutter using the motivation of the 40 bags in 40 days approach. My progress has been sporadic, but I've still gotten a good amount done. One of my big victories has been getting through all three kids' wardrobes, weeding out all the too-small and/or threadbare stuff (stealthily) as I fold each load of laundry. How boys seem to blow holes in the knees of every pair of pants within a month is beyond me. Good thing it's all the rage right now! I got through a few drawers of my own wardrobe, some of the kids' books, and a LOT of kid artwork. I also owe a great deal of credit to my husband, who attacked the basement one weekend and held my feet to the fire on helping him go through piles of needless junk. As a result, we carted away a full carload basement stuff (lampshades, picture frames, pillows, etc.) in addition to multiple bags of clothes. So even though I haven't really kept a schedule, having my overarching goal and shifting my mindset alone has accomplished a significant amount.

I've also gained some information that's helped me part with things more easily: for example, I was paralyzed with indecision over a stack of old yellowed pillows. Sad, right? But this is how my brain works: we have too many extra pillows and not enough space in the linen closet, but I couldn't stomach the thought of them taking up space in a landfill...but I also wasn't about to donate a bunch of used pillows to goodwill or a homeless shelter (gross). So I sat staring at the pillows until thought of asking the 40 days "support group." About a dozen people immediately recommended donating them to a pet shelter, which I hadn't thought of. When I called the local Humane Society, they said that they couldn't take pillows because some dogs might rip them up, but we have a friend who fosters kittens and gladly took them to her local cat-only shelter. I learned some other tricks--you can drop off a bag labeled 'rags' to Goodwill for clothes too tattered to donate (ahem, those boys and their jeans) and a few months ago I found out about H&M's new sustainable line of clothing called "Conscious," made from recycled materials. Which led me to the discovery that you can take old fabric to many H&M stores--and some even offer credit for it, which I think is an absolutely fabulous movement. Win-win-win.

After writing the above, I realized I was actually wearing one of my
favorite shirts from the Conscious line--how's that for coincidence?

[P.S. I'm also realizing this is starting to sound really affiliate-y. But I promise this isn't a sponsored post; I've just had a little thing for H&M ever since my first trip to Fifth Avenue when I acquired my most favorite pair of 90s lavender capris. Dang they were rad, I wish I had a picture]. 

Anyway, thanks to all these discoveries, I'm no longer hanging on to as many piles of stuff, or letting it fester in the craft cabinet for "one day" (because let's be real, I have neither the time nor the desire to craft or commit to Pinterest-perfect upcycling). Nope, it can move out of my house and on to greener pastures now, not later.

I think gaining that attitude of detachment, above all else, has made the focus of decluttering more than worth it this Lent. 

- - -

Moving on to my second goal--daily quiet time at the church. I've been able to accomplish this almost every day. And using the Blessed is She Lenten journal during this time has been surprisingly instrumental in my daily focus. Considering how poorly I usually do with any kind of regular routine or planner or journal, I expected myself to fill maybe half the pages, if that much. But since I've made it to the church so often, and I keep the journal in my bag, it's almost second nature now to reach for it as soon as I sit down and use it to guide my prayer time and written reflections. It's also helped me form a better discipline for my daily habits during Lent: each day next to the words Pray, Fast, and Give, I write who I need to be be praying for, how I will fast that day (no social media while I'm with the kids, no complaining, getting up early when I want to sleep, etc.), and how I should give. Sometimes it's giving of my time, sharing a meal, donations (which are sometimes tied to my decluttering), and so on. Each day is different, and tailored to what is going on in my life or others around me, which has made it especially fruitful.

But what's really opening my eyes this Lent is something more.

In terms of life going smoothly, so far this Lent has been less than ideal; it's been filled with trials and some tragedies that have hit very close to home. I've been fighting a steady stream of physical pain and exhaustion and frustration and dead ends when it comes to health matters, and on a few occasions my plans were utterly derailed because of it. On top of it all, from Ash Wednesday on we've been battling brutal chest colds that jumped from one family member to the next and finally claimed me. I thought I might, quite literally, cough up a lung and I even conceded to going to the doctor--which, if you know me, I'll do virtually anything to avoid.

I've withered before under far less dire circumstances, and looking at it objectively I should be losing my everloving cool. But I haven't (at least not yet--knock on wood). I'm still getting frustrated, and stressed, and impatient with the kids, and all those other normal happenings. But they no longer seems to have a lasting grip on me or ruin my day. The frenzy passes. Underneath it all is a certain steadiness, a grounded-ness--I might even dare to call it a sense of peace with a side of contentment--that's keeping those usual tyrants of emotions at bay. 

It's a feeling that's hard to describe and doesn't quite make sense, but it's there. Life this Lent hasn't been easy, but the inner part of my heart and my soul have remained...calm. Settled. And I think the very simple truth is that it's all owing to my daily quiet time in this place.

When I walk in, it's like a mental and physical exhale. I can actually can feel my shoulders relax and my spinning mind slow to a still. 

Some days I'm there alone. Sometimes there's a small scattering of other people in the pews. I now know which days the cleaning crew will be there, while I sit peacefully with the white noise of the vacuum running in the background. Some days I'm there for ten minutes, others a half an hour. On days my youngest doesn't have preschool, we go together, with him either whining or exuberantly waving hi to Jesus depending on his mood. (The whining days are also usually the ten minute days). Some days I have a a heck of a lot to say and the frustrations come pouring out, other days I simply sit, letting my mind and body rest. 

But regardless of what the particulars look like, it's clear that these moments spent with the Supplier of Life give me life--even when life should effectively be kicking the living daylights out of me. I think the differentiating factor between times I've been overwhelmed in the past and this time is this: in taking the extra time to seek the grace, there's a whole lot more grace holding me up in return. For that, I am extremely grateful.

Of course, I'm not going to call things yet since we still have a ways to go, but this could be, quite conceivably, the most beneficial Lent I've had in a long time. I pray yours has been fruitful too, whatever ups and downs you may be weathering. And if I can pray for you in any way, let me know--I'd love to add you to my little prayer corner!