cleaning from the inside out

as many of you know, i have been quite busy in my house the past few weeks.  especially in these last several days.  quite busy.  honestly, i don't think i've ever spent as much time indoors in one summer. but it has been necessary -- oh, so very necessary.  i'm not sure though, that i have a lot to show for it at the moment.  this occurred to me a few nights ago when a friend stopped over and remarked how normal things still looked at our house.  i mean sure there was the usual chaos of ten teenage boys spending the night and two nine year old boys in the garage chopping up minnows and salamanders from the creek.  sure the cat had thrown up earlier that day -- possibly from heat exhaustion -- and the four year old had used an entire roll of scotch tape on her "art project" -- a kitchen chair.  but, for the most part, things were normal -- or as normal as they can be in a home like ours.  paintings were still on the walls and candles were still in their holders.  dishes remained in the cupboards and family pictures sat up on the shelves.  carpets, though dirty, still continued to cover the floors and table lamps were turned on.  everything looked kind of normal -- at least from the outside.

but it was the insides of my home which had changed.  dramatically.  drastically.  if you look carefully, look deeply,  you'll find that the inner parts to our space have been cleaned up and cleared out.  there's almost not a drawer or closet which hasn't been addressed by this wild mother on her wild mission.  every single bed in our home has virtually nothing underneath it anymore (is that even possible?).  closets have been emptied of the extraneous.  cabinets have been reorganized and at least 10,000 sheets of paper have been recycled or burned.  apparently, in 22 years of marriage, we've never thrown away a single thing.  i told my friend the other night, "i think i might be an organized hoarder."  i keep things pretty tidy and neat, labeling just about everything and anything that holds still, but it is quite possible, i have saved every piece of paper which has ever come my way.  seriously, if you happened to write to me between the years of 1968 and 2012, chances are, i still have your letter.  i opened up a tin a few days ago filled with notes and letters from my childhood school and camp friends...every one of them!  i even came across a stack of letters from my 8 year old pen pal.  i am 43 years old...why do i still have these letters from a girl i never even met in person?

the children have helped with our paper bonfire!

add to my inability to part with anything sentimental, my husband's inability to part with anything financial -- receipts, tax returns, expired documents, etc... -- and we had quite the paper mill here at the mcnatt house.  a bonfire was in order.  it was our only option.  the shredder would have taken us ten years and if we would dare to leave one more bag of garbage at the curbside, i am pretty sure there might be a neighborhood revolt.  it has gotten beyond embarrassing.  the garbage situation has grown so bad lately, that i have felt the need to bake for the kind men who haul it all away each week.   one morning, a few weeks ago on trash day, we did present them with a box of donuts,  but i am beginning to think i might have to up my bribes...maybe even bake them a breakfast casserole soon.  of course, all to allay my own garbage guilt.

so, we've cleaned from the inside out.  so far, none of the surface stuff has been touched.  everything still looks like it always has.  and for the moment, this feels right.  next week i will begin to dismantle the decorating. next week i will begin to crack wide the outer shell of our beloved abode.  next week it will definitely be time.  but this week i keep telling myself, just one more day with everything still in place.  one more day.

as much as i don't want to take our life apart, i have to tell you though, the deep cleaning has been wonderful, cathartic, in fact.  if we weren't moving cross country, i am not sure i'd ever have taken the time to really consider the stuff that we've kept.  because this house has some pretty good storage, we've been able to keep it all.  there's been room for the random.   i've tried to be good about weeding out what isn't being used... at least it seems like i am always heading to goodwill with a bag or two of stuff.  but still we collect.  and it is especially hard to part with the personal -- the letters and notes and pictures and child shaped pottery.  i have sat on almost every floor of our home in these past two weeks going through boxes of our treasures -- reading notes, laughing at old letters, studying pictures, enjoying memories.  it has been delightful and it has been heartbreaking.  my already fragile self has been flooded with remembrances -- little bits and pieces of what we were and where we've come from.  and though digging deep has been hard, even a little painful at times, it has done me some good.    i mean sure, i've had some teary-eyed moments, but i can't go through this process without being a little bit thankful that i've had the time and opportunity to linger a little over our life.  reflection: that's been an unexpected gift in this moving.  a favorite doll of my daughter, the soft scrap of a baby blankie, a handprint painting, the dried bouquet from my wedding, a journal from childhood, a love letter from my daughter...all of it precious -- all of it worth looking at again.

but we all know, it can sometimes be hard when we have to look inside.  not just in our homes, but in our lives as well.  the older i get the more messy corners i find hidden within me, the more dirt i discover deep down.   there's always something buried inside needing to be addressed.  i know often i seem to spend more time on the outer shell:  clothing, hair, lipstick...that kind of thing.  i spend time worrying about that extra five pounds or that unwelcome blemish, when really what God wants is for me to keep looking inside.  certainly i've gotten better since my teen years -- let's, at least, hope so.  but, still...  i can't quite shake my eyes from the scrutiny of those outside things.  not only is it distracting, but it's also a little bit easier to stay on the surface.  it's easier to worry about the business of beauty and the busy-ness of life.   a good plan of action can attack most anything superficial,  but it takes something more to go deep --  to look inside and underneath and within.  it takes great time.  it takes great energy.  it takes great devotion.  and sometimes it takes being moved. yes, that's right, moved.  i want to be a woman who is known to care more about the insides of herself and her loved ones and her life... but i have to be honest, it is sometimes easier to cover it all up and just pretend we aren't moving.  just pretend nothing's changed.  just pretend no re-ordering is necessary.

sitting here on this rainy thursday morning, i am certain these past few weeks of cleaning from the inside out have been good for me, for my family, for our house. they have certainly been good for the bottom line of our moving bill.  without doubt, i am a little more raw and maybe even a little more vulnerable from dragging out the innards of our life,  but i am oddly confident there's been blessing found here.  and whether we are peering deep in the corners of our homes or deep in the corners of ourselves, there's something good to be gained in our daring to look.  maybe, though, we have to be willing to move a little.   maybe we'll never choose to do it on our own, but if we are willing to sacrifice the comfortable, then, maybe then, we can study the contents.   there's no one reading this who would disagree.  i know all of us would shake our heads acknowledging what really matters is on the inside. no one would argue otherwise.  and what's more, it is the inside stuff which takes the most time.  even with this move, i can already tell, it will be no big deal to strip the house of the wall hangings and empty a room of its decor.  but what has truly taken some blood, sweat and a few tears, is going deep into the recesses of what we have...of who we are. 

what happens in your life when you feel God beginning to stir? to move?  to move you?  that can be something harder.  sometimes He shakes us up.  sometimes He empties us out.  sometimes He dismantles our facade completely -- just like i am doing in my own home this month.  and as frustrating and stressful as all that can be...it is also quite possible that a little treasure can be unearthed.  

maybe, just maybe, we occasionally need to be moved.

"for the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance,

 but the LORD looks on the heart.”  ~ 1 samuel 16:7

inside out
In my heart, in my soul
I give you control
Consume me from the inside out
Let justice and praise
Become my embrace
To love you from the inside out

Everlasting, your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, your glory goes beyond all fame
And the cry of my heart is to bring you praise
From the inside out
Lord my soul cries out

tangled

when did i go from a girl eager to get up on the high ropes course, to a woman relishing a quiet house and a week of organizing closets?

when did this happen?

this week, all but the oldest child, are at summer camp.  tyler and sarah were dropped off at a christian sports/wilderness camp in the north georgia mountains, while connor and bella are attending a sports/wilderness day camp at our church.  except for the 16 year old, who comes and goes at her own pace, my house is empty from 9am to 4pm every day.  i am pretty sure, since entering the realm of motherhood, i have never had a week quite like this.  i certainly have never seen my house so quiet and calm and clean (oh yes, so wonderfully clean!)

the first day i scoured the kitchen from top to bottom, and when i came back into it an hour later -- it was still clean!  i'm not kidding, the room was still spotless. can you even imagine?  i stood there, mouth gaping and then slow smile spreading--oh the simple pleasures of summer children well-occupied.

this week, i have discovered some truth:  summer camp isn't intended for kids...it is actually designed for parents needing to catch their breath.  can i get an a-men?  i had to fight the urge the first day to tidy up the whole house and then spend time just walking serenely around it, taking in its pristine state,  basking in the unwrinkled beds and unsticky countertops.  you think i'm strange?  come and live in my home on a normal day, and then you'll know just why i might revel so oddly in a brief moment of serenity.

it's not that i haven't missed my children.  i have! without fail, i've checked the camp website every evening for updated pictures of my boy and girl at sleep-away camp.  i have delighted in their obvious fun, enormous smiles and muddy clothing.  they are clearly having the time of their lives and i can't wait to pick them up this weekend and hear their stories.  i know my sarah will talk non-stop, all the way home.  and each day at 4pm, when it is time to pick up connor and bella, i am always excited to see them running towards me:  faces flushed and energy spent, smelling of the outdoors and sunshine and sweat.  i wasn't sure if bella could handle this all day camp thing -- but it's clear, she has adored being there.  she is the tiniest camper by far, i've been told, the counselors all take turns carrying her around, like the camp mascot or babydoll.  each morning when i wake her and tell her it is time to get ready for camp, she responds with a big "yes!"  i guess she has handled it just fine. the first day on the way out the door, she stopped and said, "oh no, mom, i forgot my pajamas!"  and she turned to run back inside.  i burst out laughing and explained, "honey, you aren't sleeping at your camp.  you don't need your jammies. you'll be home in time for dinner." not one bit of concern or worry from this kid -- day camp or sleep away camp, she's all in!

so what does a woman do when her house has emptied of children?

the night before they all left, i posted on facebook that i was waffling between two plans for my week alone.  plan one: cleaning and organizing my entire house.  plan two: emptying several cartons of ice cream while catching up on all the movies i've missed in the past five years.  everyone who responded to my post, encouraged the ice cream and movie thing.  my middle girl even told me if i did that she'd be very proud of me. but those of you who know me, know there is nothing i love more than puttering around in my house -- uninterrupted.  i did watch puss and boots one night with connor and bella, but other than that fine film, i have forgone the call of ice cream and couch.

instead this week, i did some serious digging into the house --  my own version of wilderness camp. closets and cabinets and drawers -- oh my!  i am amazed at what was unearthed --  perhaps appalled would be a better word.  we have a lot of stuff.  too much stuff, in fact. and so i've spent the week creating piles:  throw-away, give-away, keep.   i've done this room by room, closet by closet, drawer by drawer.  music blasting and woman singing, i've moved with a mission around my home unhindered.  most of the time i have enjoyed my little, self-imposed project.  i've enjoyed not having to fight off kids who are certain they "couldn't-possibly-part-with-this-thing-a-ma-jig" (this thing which they haven't touched in a year).  i've enjoyed the sense of accomplishment, the paring down, the purging, the utter orderliness of it all.  though i have to admit, there have been moments at the end of the day, when i am a little weary of sorting game pieces and playing cards and legos and lint, and i find myself just staring crazily at it all and considering running an ad in the newspaper (or on facebook!) and announcing a big "cash and carry! - everything must go sale!"  can you imagine rick coming home from his work week in minnesota and finding us sleeping on carpets, eating from take out cartons.

i hit that point yesterday when i got to the garage.  (mind you, i should know better than to ever go to the garage).  i pulled down bin after bin of random stuff.  pieces and parts and unidentifiable objects all mixed together in this great cacophony of junk -- the work of my husband and sons who don't exactly share my love of labels and order.  it was late in the day and i was tired.  one last box to go: our collection of  extension cords.  i don't know why, but after 22 years of marriage, we have almost a thousand extension cords.  okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but we do have a lot -- an entire, extra large bin full of them.  brown ones, white ones, green ones, orange ones,  long ones, short ones,  indoor ones, outdoor ones.  you name it, we have it.  in fact, we probably have some of yours if you're by chance missing one or two.   but as i sat there on my dirty garage floor and began to untangle them, i suddenly felt like the project was too much.  they were too tangled.  the harder i tried, the more tangled they became. some had knots, some had greasy smudges and rough edges.  i wrestled for quite a while with these cords before the tears came.  but come they did.  seriously, jody, are you going to cry over a box of tangled extension cords? i reprimanded myself.

but my tears had less to do with the tangled extension cords and everything to do with our tangled lives.  you see, as i was trying to fix this mess, i started to think about how much our family is tangled up in this place we call home.  i started thinking about how woven we are into the fabric of our school and church and community.  i started to think about how tangled up we are in the lives of people.  and just like this box of extension cords, i wasn't sure how we'd ever unravel ourselves from the big knot of those we love.  okay, perhaps i was just tired. perhaps it was the garage fumes getting to my silly head.  perhaps i am stretching too far with this one, regardless of what this was, i sat there a big old tangled mess on my dirty garage floor with my box of many cords and my many, many tears. 

but funny enough, God meets us even in the dirt and grime and mess of our garages.  in the midst of all that , a tiny sliver of clarity found my brain, and i took the big old mess of interwoven extension cords and heaved them back into the box.  why did i need to unravel them?  i didn't. i did not.  no, they were fine just the way they were and they could move with us in this very box without any unravelling taking place at all.  and the same goes for our family.  we don't have to unwind ourselves from this life.  just because we are moving a 1000 miles away doesn't mean we have to unravel ourselves from the people we love.  we can pack up the big old tangled mess of our relationships and take them with us.  we can.  God isn't asking us to sever, He is asking us to further sow.  sow new friendships and new relationships.  sow new seed, but all the while, continuing to grow with those we love.   maybe sitting on my garage floor in the middle of extension cords, was a strange place to learn a lesson, but it was a good lesson to learn. and i am thankful even in my messiest places,  God chooses to whisper His truth. 

we aren't untethering, we are continuing.  we aren't unravelling, we are reaching. we aren't extinguishing, we are extending.  last week we met some new friends while in minnesota.  my new friend, leslie, sent a picture of me with these ladies.  attached to the photo she wrote, "make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other's gold."  i was a girl scout many moons ago and i remember learning that little song.  i was probably ten or so when i first heard those words, how could i have ever imagined what they would mean to me in all these many years of loving and leaving and meeting and growing with people.  true words.  beautiful words. 

so this week, my kids were all off to wilderness camp. while they were up on the high ropes course,  while they were out on the river, while they were in canoes and kayaks and rivers and lakes,  their mother stayed home and cleaned out closets.  but maybe, just maybe this is my own version of the high ropes course.  i know what we are doing is an adventure.  my survival skills will all be called upon in these next couple of months of uncharted territory.   of course there will be some wild, wild wilderness out ahead-- i'm sure of it!  but i am even more sure of the God who leads and whispers and makes a way in our (clean or messy, organized or disorganized, smooth or tangled) wilderness.  

"behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." ~ isaiah 43:19

charting their course down river

boys praying with counselors before their kayak trip

girls backpacking trip -- a grand adventure!