There has been too much on my plate lately.
I have papers to check, articles to write, and speeches to craft. My book manuscripts need reviewing and finishing. Not to mention our grief over the terrible way in which my 29-year-old nephew’s life was snuffed out; and now the demise of my former big boss who was a big presence in my first career.
What do I do?
I clean up my computer’s innards. I check each and every folder and find duplicate photos and manuscripts. I trash them. I check some more and discover old heavy files that I no longer need. I trash those, too. I uncover many different versions of the same power point presentation, drafts of speeches, forgotten stories, unsent letters, and discontinued projects.
Trash, trash, trash.
Four gigs of garbage gone. I feel good. I feel clean. But it has been two hours of my time—time I would have put to better use by working on my priority A-list.
This got me pondering about how much garbage I carry around, weighing me down—a long-time grudge, unvoiced anger towards someone, an itch to change circumstances beyond my control, a feeling of unease from unanswered questions, and pain over the loss of loved ones. These don’t go away because they’re allowed to fester in the gut.
I guess that’s why trashing useless files seem so right. Amidst important chores, I need to take time to do it—like a catharsis of sorts.
Above my monitor are my Bibles, daily reminders of how a grace-dependent life must be led.
Psalms 55:22, written thousands of years before computer was even an idea, says exactly what one must do when the weighed-down heart needs to be cleared of dross. “Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you. He will never let the righteous to be moved.”