Cleaning my Room

My clean and organized room has exploded.  I’m sure my mom is chuckling as she reads that statement, thinking, “It was only a matter of time…”  But before you judge too quickly, I would like to explain the explosion.

I have minimal sewing skills, which I had hoped to keep a secret here in Kenya, but I opened my big mouth and said, “I can make curtains for you out of that material.”  This was about two weeks ago.  It started off innocently with moving the sewing machine into my room—I no longer have roommates so there’s plenty of room.  But somehow I went from making four panels of curtains for a kitchen to sewing 20 panels for the veranda, stripping apart and remaking a “Chum” sunglasses holder, sewing more curtains for the kitchen to hide below the sink, creating fabric panels to line cabinet doors, and mending clothing.  This list is not intended to be a complaint—on the contrary, I’m happy to help in whatever way I can.  This list is to explain that my room is not a mess because of my crap.  All of my clothing and possessions are neatly tucked away in shelves and the top bunk.  What has taken over my room all pertains to sewing—remember, it was supposed to be a secret.  I have piles of orange fabric for the veranda curtains taking over an entire bed, a table with a Singer sewing machine and thread box, a rickety ironing board propped up on my storage tub, bins of necessary sewing items cascading over another bed, and a large crate full of hole-y clothes that I need to sort and mend appropriately.  So now my room has become less of a haven and more of a sweatshop (although I do have a fan to keep me cool!).  I need to reorganize and shift the sewing stuff around to reduce my anxiety.

While humorous, this situation has caused me to think about my own life (here it comes, that “Life’s a lot like that moment…”).  I tend to keep my personal stuff “organized”—hidden away and out of sight so as not to arouse suspicion.  Since that is so well kept, I’ll slowly add in good “Christian” things, like helping others, helping ministries, making commitments for positive things, and pretty soon there’s no space left in my “room”.  There’s no space left for God and I to hang out and chat—I don’t even want to be in my room except to accomplish what’s necessary, i.e. sleep.  The only way to make my room operable again is to reassess what actually needs to be there and where it should go, and what can be moved out.  This cleansing process is vital to my life as well as to my walk with God.  I become so focused on what I can do for God instead of concentrating on making room to spend time with God.

This weekend I have some reorganizing and shifting to do in more than just my bedroom.