“Lord, Come to My Messy House”… today this message is for those who have everything in pretty good order, those whose lives have a semblance of balance, those who have a measure of peace in their life, in their household, in their relationships, in their spiritual awareness of God, those who are blessed and at peace…
Twelve years ago I became a Christian. Back then every Sunday morning at 8:30 I would receive a call from a friend inviting me to Sunday School. At the time I attended church occasionally but it hadn’t become a routine or even a valuable thing. The first five times I received the Sunday morning wakeup call, I felt loved, “someone wanted me to come to something.” I didn’t want to go to Sunday school though, so I would politely tell the caller I was going back to bed. I thought that if this caller kept getting the same response from me they would eventually lose hope that I was ever going to attend Sunday school. The caller never lost hope that I would come to Sunday school though. He relentlessly called every Sunday morning for a little over a year. It came to the point where when I laid in bed Saturday night I knew the first thing I would hear when I woke up was, “Are you coming to Sunday school?” Eventually I became angry with this caller.
(The photographs are of my office, and were shown on the screen during the reading of the opening story "Clutter." I took the photographs without moving anything but my chair to make it easier. It's a real life working office with a bit of cluter.)
Enjoy the story of "Clutter.
" It arose one morning from the bowels of my desk, a formless mass that spread and covered itself over anything I was looking for. "Who are you?" I asked.
"I am Clutter," the mass answered, "and I am here to confound your life. I am the things you refuse to throw out though you haven't used them in six years, the miscellaneous papers, phone numbers, business cards, and the stuff you don't put away. I am Clutter."
I grabbed Clutter and moved it from one end of the desk to the other.
Clutter chortled. "That's my favorite pastime. Moving from one end of the desk to the other."
"I'm throwing you out," I stormed.
Clutter shook his untidy mass sadly, as in pity. "Not without looking through me to see if there's anything you really need," Clutter answered. "The odds are slim, but you won't take that chance. And while you're sorting through me, I'll re-form in another pile."
"But you'll be smaller, more manageable."
"Not really. You'll decide to keep 90% of me, as you always do. And soon, new papers, numbers, documents will gather, making me more obstructive than ever."
"You won't ruin my life, Clutter! I'll start a filing system. Put a bit of you where you belong."
Clutter gazed at me contemptuously. "The last time you tried that, you created my cousins, Chaos and Disorder. It'll never work."
Clutter had me and I knew it. Attempts in the past to file things alphabetically had only created 26 piles of mess instead of one. I was desperate, so I decided to bluff.
Exasperated, I ran to the closet. "I'll throw you in here!"
Clutter had been to the closet before me. Shoes were scattered, shirts were unhung, clumps of pants and underwear lay strewn next to towels and a lawn chair. Socks congealed in small piles, looking like the waste product of some nylon-eating monster.
"Clutter," I yelled. "You have crippled my productivity for the last time. No longer will I be late, no more will I miss appointments, Never again shall I be overwhelmed by your size and withdraw into reading old magazines. I am going out to the store to buy a paper shredder."
I looked around for a long moment. "Now where did I leave my keys?"