December 9, 2013
I never quite understood how junk drawers happen. Somehow they fill up again and again - always in the kitchen. They always start off being useful though. Like oh, that's where we keep the batteries for Tommy's 327 toys that require them to come in all shapes and sizes.
You keep scissors and tape there for things that need cutting and putting back together again. Pens for writing. And then the other things build. Random coupons. Nails and tacks. Grocery lists. Receipts that you don't need to keep but you keep in the off chance you need them. Straws. And we always think the thermometer is in there but it never is, yet we look there first anyway.
I noticed the same thing recently with my heart. I've been suffering from some pretty frustrating bouts of insomnia for the last few months that has gotten increasingly worse. I'll wake up and not be able to go back to sleep - even after getting up to read or pray. My lack of sleep has exhausted me on top of the schedule I'm keeping between work and home and motherhood.
But the insomnia is just a symptom of something deeper. One sleepless night I wrote out all that was swirling in my mind at the time and I filled up nearly four pages in my journal. And after surveying the junk, I decided it was time to do something about it.
Last Friday I made a long and familiar drive up to the hill country about 45 minutes away and sat on the coach across from a woman who has held pieces of my story. It's been a couple of years since I've seen her, but walking in the door, I was reminded that I needed this. I need help, I need to take care of myself, I need someone to walk through parts of my life and story that I simply can't do on my own.
No more shutting out the clutter and pretending it's not there. No more adding to it without deciding if it needs to be added to the other existing junk carelessly. The same can't be said of my junk drawer currently, but I am on the road to de-cluttering the mess in my very full heart.