When I was a child, I used to collect price tags, the pretty ones. I remember I had a green tankini bathing suit that had a particularly shiny blue tag. I snipped it off my bathing suit and put it into my drawers. There it was, for years. When I would come home from college, my mom would ask me to clean, to get rid of some things, and I wouldn’t want to.
I also used to collect water bottles. I don’t mean that I actually actively collected them, but they would collect in my college room. Half full of water. Promising liquid health to a future dehydrated person. Never fulfilling its duty. There they sat, growing more and more stale with the days. And yet I felt too guilty to throw them away. Call it guilt or call it a mild form of OCD. I’m happy to say I no longer collect water bottles.
Upon finishing Marie Kondo’s book, I was able to tackle my clothing piles. I got rid of a bag of clothing that I never wore. My closet finally had space for everything. I felt accomplished. But it still seems really wasteful to donate useful things away or throw them away. Does it really bring joy into your life? I wasn’t sure. I’m still not sure. After all, if the Lord Jesus is real joy, exactly how much joy could decluttering bring? Some, but I suspected it wouldn’t be enough to be life-changing. Now as I sit in the living room, surrounded by books, I feel like I need to start to tackle my book piles. Today someone asked me about a particular book on the shelf. One that I have divided feelings towards. If I start to tackle my pile, I may revisit it. Oh boy, what a project.