For Wilshire Baptist Church
My desk had become a wicked mess, with piles of papers stacked so high there was danger of them collapsing into one big pile that avalanched onto the floor.
The mess was a testament to recent months where I was so busy and buffeted from one project to another that my desk became a dumping ground for anything and everything. For a while there was evidence of attempted cleanup when I had some sorted stacks on the floor, but those had to go back on the desk in crisscross piles when I started bringing home papers to sort from George Gagliardi’s apartment.
I finally decided enough was enough when I couldn’t see half of my computer screen and there was no place to park a cup of coffee. I need both of those for work.
I felt foolish as I began sorting again, because I had a roommate in college who would clean the apartment whenever mid-terms or finals came around. He said he couldn’t think straight until he got things in order. I laughed at him then because I knew it was just his way of procrastinating about studying. I don’t laugh anymore because I find myself doing the same thing: putting off an important task by jumping into more menial tasks I’ve convinced myself need to come first.
On the other hand, I found something therapeutic, even spiritual, as I got started on the cleanup because it became an unexpected sort of Advent preparation. As in the carol “Joy to the World” with the text, “let every heart prepare Him room,” I felt in a way that in cleaning off my desk, I was getting my mind and spirit ready for Advent.
Underlying the entire process was a general throwing away of papers and documents I’d been holding onto for no reason other than I couldn’t decide what to do with them. As it turns out, the trash can is a very good place to put such things you can’t decide about and that no longer matter.
There were greeting cards from months and even years past I had kept to look at again but in fact I hadn’t and rarely do. Some are holiday and birthday cards, and others are much-appreciated expressions of support and even prayer during difficult times. But those times have passed and it’s time to look ahead.
I had old worship folders from Sunday church services and more funerals than I care to count. I also had an elaborate invitation to a wedding in the Hill Country, the only one we’ve been to in the past five years if not longer. After all the funerals, it was a breath of fresh air to witness a new family being formed, but do we need to keep the invitation? We have pictures and great memories of time shared with old friends.
There were lots of medical records and statements from the past two years of cancer diagnosis, treatments and tests. Sure, they are documentation of a life-changing event, but shouldn’t I be focusing on the good life still to be lived?
Also in the piles were receipts and statements that will become part of our filing for taxes in a few months, but also just receipts from the comings and goings of everyday life: dining at a favorite restaurant, buying flowers at the nursery, purchasing replacement parts online for this device or that appliance.
Interspersed were odds and ends from my time serving as coordinator for Wilshire’s deacon body: attendance records, financial reports, scribbled notes for meeting minutes that have long been typed and recorded. From what I can see, the deacons have gotten along fine with new and improved processes. They don’t need my old documents any more than I do.
Falling out of almost every pile were business cards from people I’ve dealt with, others I collected and have forgotten why, and some that were taped on the front door by tree and lawn services I was never going to hire. And there were plenty of papers I set aside for no other reason than I was too lazy or too busy to make a decision on whether they should go or stay. As I forced myself to make those decisions now, it was no surprise that most of them went in the trash. Wouldn’t it have been better to do that when I first handled them?
Everything I threw away was a record of the life I live in the here and now but has no bearing on what is to come: the new life that is heralded in the birth of the Christ child. The documents I trashed are important in the moment because we do need to pay our bills and take care of commitments to and from others. But too often they can pile up and become a source of anxiety, distraction and obsession. They can become sort of an altar to ourselves: “This is me; this is what I do; this is who I am.”
With my desk mostly clear now, I have room to work, think, meditate, even pray. The floor is clear and ready for the Christmas tree we always put in our upstairs window. Most of all, the cleanup has helped prepare room in my head and heart for the one who has already prepared room for us.