To my future family: I have decided that I don't want you to live in my past. I don't want you to be clothed in my disbelief of God's provision for us. I don't want to cram you into the mold that I made for you in my younger days. We, as a family, will be ourselves, together.
You may be asking yourself, "what is this woman lady talking about?" If you know me in real life you know what I am talking about. I have an entire storage unit of "stuff" that I saved for "my family". Some items were bought with the intentions of giving them to my future family and some were mine and I decided to save for when I needed "more stuff". Kind of like a "just add humans" scenario.
About a year ago I started clearing out my own stuff, shoes, shirts, skirts, pants, hats, and purses. You know all the stuff I "needed" so badly. Here were my three major wake-up calls:
1. My step-mom told that she heard that if you buy one thing you should get rid of two. I told her that plan would be great if I wanted less stuff but I don't. I. want. more. The words didn't hit me that day but they did later.
2. One day my aunt asked me "when is it (my amount of stuff) going to be enough?" I couldn't answer her that day. Then one day (much later), I called her back with an answer. That was when I realized that it "now" was the point that it was enough. That is where the battle actually began.
3. The most shocking of all three was when my childhood friend told me that he doesn't allow his children to state that they love an item. They love their family and people but not stuff. At first, I thought it was a bit over the top. Then I started to think it was "stupid". I have learned that when my brain starts using that word that is going to be the next issue up to bat in the game of "becoming more like my Savior". (This is not actually a game but a life goal. But, game sounds easier, right?) Anyways, the point of no return for me was the day my mouth said, before it got clearance from my brain, "that is so stupid because I do love stuff." I my knees buckled and my tears beat me to the floor because I heard my own words: "I. DO. LOVE. STUFF! That's my freaking problem."
Ok, so with a prayerful attitude I have majorly cleaned out my crap 5 times and I still have a plush amount of stuff. And sometimes I miss stuff. I never said I have finished this battle, I just invited you to the middle of it. Anyways, storage aside, I believe I have a decent amount of stuff now. Several friends have confirmed my progress so I was feeling pret-ty gooooood. (That is another thing to beware of.)
Since we are new friends I have to tell you a bit more background to the story. My whole life I have had bazillions of dreams where I was "getting ready, getting ready, getting ready" and never getting to go to my date, prom, wedding, whatever because I could not decide what to wear. If you know me you know I believe God speaks to me through dreams. If you don't know me now you do a tiny bit more. Back to business, those dreams had gone away for about 2 years. I believed it was because I had overcome the problem. Bingo, sounds good, let's move on, right? Wrong. This week I had not one, but two of these dreams in. the. same. night. This is one of those times when I wake up and say "Oh, Hell no". And I am literally telling Hell and it's cohorts, "No, you're done here." By the way, I do not say "Hell yes" or "Hells yeah". I only tell Hell no!
So during the week I'm trying to figure out how to defeat my enemy of materialism. In regular Shala fashion, I am seeking to hear what God is telling me and also seeking "multitude of counsel" aka friends, because that's wise, right? So, as my friend and I are trying to figure out how to break this stronghold it occurs to me that I have an entire household of stuff just waiting for a family. Then it occurs to me that I cannot put my husband into these dreams that I have been planning for us and expect him to "love it".
If these dreams worked they would already be working. But they are not, they are broken and they are not ours. They are my broken dreams: "Here love, come live in my broken dreams with me. Abide with the stuff that I chose for us in my valleys and pity parties. Some of the stuff was chosen for "us" when I was picturing a different "us". Yeah, that's healthy.
So long story short... ok, it's way too late for that: It's time to clean house again.