Yesterday, I did battle with our coat closet and I won!
Only two of us live in our home right now and yet, for some reason, our reasonably large coat closet was full to overflowing, junk strewn all over the floor. If a guest arrived at our home last week and handed me their coat to hang up, I would have strategically thrown it over the back of a sofa in our living room.
But not anymore! I have conquered the dragon! I am a Shield Maiden of Rohan, Ruler of the Iron Throne, Mother of Dragons! (Insert Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones theme music here.) You are welcome to come on over and hang up your coat!
Perhaps I am being a wee bit dramatic, but my tendency to make mundane tasks into epic battles of will is quite extraordinary.
Here’s the thing: I am not without skills and the ability to follow through. I am capable of managing complex, multi-faceted projects, leading groups of people in major fundraising efforts, and starting a growing business. And oh yeah, I wrote a wholeBOOK, for goodness sake!
Yet, I can NOT seem to clean out my bedside table, organize the stacks in the study or mail the boxes I promised to mail to my daughter. Every room in my house has a corner or crevice that hisses at me when I walk by, mocking me and my big plans to finally, someday, conquer the clutter. When my youngest left for college, I made a list of cabinets, closets, shelves and drawers I was going to tackle. She graduates in May and I am STILL talking about it.
BUT yesterday, I emerged from the coat closet with two bags of giveaways, one bag of trash and a sense of equal parts accomplishment and amusement.
Here is what happened differently yesterday: I had two coaching clients cancel because of illness. Instead of filling that unexpected block of time puttering mindlessly on the computer or getting ticked off watching the news, I asked myself these questions- the kinds of questions I often ask my clients:
- How do I want to intentionally, purposefully use this gift of time?
- What would give me a sense of accomplishment right now?
- What do I say is important to me and how does that impact how I choose to spend my minutes and hours?
- Who does God say that I am and do I believe Him?
In light of those questions, I decided to tackle one of the many looming, leering, mocking projects right that minute, no delay, no excuses. I ended up dragging it out over the course of the day, getting distracted by sending photos of myself in reindeer antlers to my children (no, I have no idea why there were reindeer antlers in my coat closet amongst the FIVE HUNDRED pairs of gloves.) It wasn’t pretty or terribly efficient, but I got it done.
One tiny little baby dragon vanquished!
Yes, I know I am making way too big of a deal about this. Cleaning out a coat closet isn’t hard. Fighting cancer is hard. Grieving a loved one is hard. Losing thirty pounds is hard. Cleaning out a closet is a joke by comparison.
Yet I am finding many of us struggle more with the little things. We rise to the occasion when the crisis comes, but we feel shame over our inability to master the minutiae of daily living We become paralyzed by that habit, task or struggle that keeps us stuck feeling like a failure. The good news is that God is equally present right in the middle of the mundane, and wants to help us. Because I know God loves me, I am learning to have a sense of humor about these kinds of struggles. Shame keeps me stuck, so I must give myself some grace in the places where I am frankly a bit of a mess. Yet, God also wants me to move forward into becoming my best self, so sometimes I need a kick in the butt and the reminder that I am capable of learning and growing. Sometimes, I need to hear something like, “You got this! Get it done! No more excuses.”
Which of those do you need today? A little extra dose of grace? Or a pep talk to get off your behind and get back in the game?
Go get that dragon, brave warrior!
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7
Originally published on www.kellyiveyjohnson.com