Purging

I had this thought, almost a calling, that my family needed to purge our closets. I picked a Saturday and told (warned) my family that this was the day for purging. Each child was responsible for their own closet, lest Mom does it for them. The Saturday came and we went to work. I even purged the medicine closet which had a bottle of Tums that expired in 1999 and Big Bird band-aids. I purged my closet (do you know anyone who needs maternity pants?) and had 2 bags of clothing for Good Will and 2 bags for the garbage. My "always-game-for-mom's-ideas" husband had to go to the dump to get rid of all the stuff he purged from his office. I was so excited to get rid of all this stuff! We went to church the next day and then lunch and when I came home to my clean house I felt . . . what? . . . unsatisfied? . . . why? . . . we purged, I should be happy. When I went to bed I prayed, "What's up God? Why am I feeling so unsatisfied? I purged my whole house. We even need to go to the dump." And God, being the ultimate gentleman that He is said gently, "Try purging your heart." Well, I will tell you it is easier to purge a closet of old shoes and dresses than it is to purge your heart of old hurts and grudges. So, after more than one Saturday and an apology note, I purged my heart. But just like that pretty size 8 dress that hangs in the back of my closet that I can't get rid of, there are still some size 8 hurts in my heart. It's a process . . . just like life . . . adapted. . .