About twice a year, I get the itch—the Big Closet Purge. I set out full of good intentions, planning to make more space in the drawers and keep it that way, at least until a sale at my favorite store rolls around. But for some reason, I always find myself trapped in the same hole. You know the one: the “but what if I need this someday and I have to buy it again?” trap. Or the “I know I haven’t worn this since before I had kids, but I’ll definitely fit back into it this year!” snare. Or, my favorite, “I used to love this. Maybe I’ll start wearing it again!”
I don’t know how someone can both hate stuff and be attached to it, but I am that person. Cleaning out the closet reveals that there’s a war going on between the Minimalist and the Stuff Spartan within me, and I don’t think either one ever really wins. It’s more like they call a truce at the line in the sand and go their separate ways until the next battle.
All joking aside, my latest struggle to purge my possessions got me thinking about each item and what it meant to me at different times in my life. As I thumbed through the dresses and button-up shirts, my days as a teacher came to mind. The gray converse and winter coats brought back my college days in Flagstaff. And of course, skirts and plain blouses have always been part of my wardrobe but first caught on when I moved to the desert years ago.
Lately life has been of the leggings and soft t-shirt sort. Nothing fancy, nothing very stylish, just getting the job done as comfortably as possible.
While I’m left wondering if I’ll ever wear that semi-sheer garment again, part of me also wonders if I’ll ever get that part of my life back. Though I know my possessions don’t define me, I also know deep down that holding onto clothes is me trying to hold onto the pieces of myself that are gone.
I know that my true identity is in Christ, as a daughter of the King. What I do as a profession or in my free time has no bearing on my status in God’s kingdom.
Even so, it’s a bittersweet thing, letting go.
I’ve been reflecting recently on something I heard in a mom’s group: that all friendships serve a specific purpose in a specific season, and both parties don’t always share the weight evenly. Basically, we can’t expect to invite every friend we’ve ever made to our weddings or kids’ birthday parties. I may have been best friends with someone in elementary school, but it’s okay to accept that time and distance bring new best friends along. And sometimes, the people we run with need a lot of our time and energy. But it’s only for a little while, then the tables may turn and we are the one needing ministry.
How does this relate to my spring cleaning woes?
Sometimes, like clothes, we put on a persona for a season because it’s what we need to do. The Holy Spirit’s call on our lives may take us somewhere we didn’t plan for, and we become someone different than we started out as. Every experience is part of our sanctification, and we can learn valuable lessons from each era of our lives. But it’s foolish to try and cling to what’s passing away.
Because those personas are fleeting, and they don’t define us. It may feel like our career is who we are, but when all that is stripped away, the only thing left is who we are in Jesus. That one thing will never change, so long as we’ve accepted the gift of salvation.
Life is about letting go of things, because this world can’t offer us what our souls thirst for. And sometimes, we need to make space in the closet of our hearts so that our Savior can move.