I know, I know. I was not consistent to blog as I should have been. I commit myself for you to challenge me and make me accountable to do just that...blog more consistently. At any rate, I have one for today.
Decluttering my life.
Clutter is stuff that serves no useful purpose. It fills our lives with things in a disorderly manner. A state of confusion. The word clutter in the British dialect also means to speak so rapidly and inexactly that distortions of sound and phrasing results. (It’s amazing how things can call your name. Ann, take this garbage out
RIGHT NOW. Ann, Answer that phone. Don’t let the machine get it. It speaks so rapidly that is distorts the sounds of more pressing matters that are also calling.)
I must admit that I am person of clutter. I like things around me. Just at hand’s reach, in case I need them. Which, by the way, drove my husband crazy when we first married. It did not take me long to realize that is was only clutter if it was MY stuff as opposed to HIS stuff. We both compromised and found suitable storage space for our personal clutter just out of eye’s reach but near to our own workspace.
(well most of the time. laugh)
In my friend’s world, clutter means something on a radar screen that does not come from the target and can be caused by such factors as atmospheric conditions, chaff, or confusion from similar objects pushing for the same recognition.
I pushed to write because it was a commitment that I made to my sisters. It was not that I did not want to write, I did and DO, but things had cluttered my life. On the radar screen, everything looked like the target and vied for my attention. Some really were important.
A son from one end of the state and a daughter and granddaughter from the
other both came to my house at the same time. I love writing but my family is
the most important thing I have. But what about that unmade bed? It had been unmade all afternoon long. Izzy had taken a nap in it before they left. So why did it have to be made at 9:30 p.m.? It could wait till morning. My mind was in confusion…cunningly discomposed by an enemy. The enemy desires to pilfer the time that I do not maintain in an orderly fashion. I must guard time and not let it
be strewn and whittled away with willy-nilly disregard to my call to write.
God, help me to declutter my life from the thieves of time. You have given me one of the best ways to do that…by scheduling time to write as we have in this challenge among sisters. Help me understand my goals and not be distracted from my purpose by clutter on the radar of my life. Help me have a sense of awareness of what is
important and what has been placed on the screen as a lure. Show me the sure assessment of what gives the best investment for the trade of the precious gift of ‘time’ that you, Father, have given me.
Ann Phillips, Tennessee native with roots in North Carolina, mother of 5, grandmother of 15 and loving life..