Sleeping has never been an issue for me. I enjoy my pillow, down comforter, and soft sheets just about as much as anything else I can imagine, but I just can't seem to lay my head down. For the first time in my life the idea of "something keeping me up at night" hits way too close to home. Matthew 6:19 has been playing on repeat in my head over these last two or three days. . ."Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal." I have practically written a melody for these very words, and sing it as I work around the house.
I am beginning the long and daunting task of sorting through Matt's things in preparing us for the inevitable upcoming (and mostly unwanted) move. I wonder if he is watching over me. At times I think he must be cringing to watch me throw away his earthly "treasures", the ones I pleaded with him to discard time and time again without luck. The things I am finding are outstanding, outrageous, hilarious, and yet sad as well. He spent such time with these things, moving them, learning about them, fixing them. It was who he was, it was what he did, and I love him for that.
And then there are times I get the feeling I am wrong about his possible annoyance with me, and rather he is watching over me, encouraging me to do what I need to do. Less stuff, means less work, means more time with the kids, and more money to support us. Does he now have a greater and deeper understanding of what this passage is truly all about?
Or what if there isn't disgust or encouragement, maybe there is something in regards to this whole thing I can't understand still being of this Earth. I've shed a lot of tears in these last hours over just this issue. Which may seem weird to some, but Matt loved this stuff, he spent a lifetime gathering it - and with some exceptions it is mostly just useless junk. For those of you who didn't know him well Matt was not a hoarder, TLC style, but he had "hoarding tendencies" (as I would so lovingly call them). He also loved to shop, he loved toys, and he had a need to have two (or more) of everything he owned. This was one of the things that made him the most fun dad on the planet.
I think this "stuff" was his form of release in this world, it helped him to have control, make sense of things. He liked to be surrounded by stuff that he could tangibly hold, organize, move, and mess around with. It made him feel grounded and safe in some strange way. And now I am left behind to clean it up. To pick up those 10,000 twist ties so neatly straighten and organized into labeled containers and say, 'These don't matter, and I'm throwing them out'. It is gut wrenching, it is painful, it feels wrong. I don't have a choice though, it needs to be done, and I'm doing the right thing. And even with all that Truth filled knowledge the lies are still eating me up inside. This terrible feeling that I am actually hurting him, that somewhere he is angry with me.