More From Carol Harrison

It’s been many years since my husband and I searched for his little notebook, only to find it after a thorough search of his favorite chair. But that wasn’t the only time I have searched for something, cleaned deeply to find an item, or organized my things to be able to find them easier. 

In fact, since writing today’s devotional, we decided to move into a smaller home and needed to sort and purge many of our possessions. They just wouldn’t fit into the new space. This meant making choices about what to keep and what to get rid of. Some items didn’t take much thought—I knew they didn’t belong in the new space, so they needed to be donated or be thrown away. Other items were harder to let go of. I had an attachment to them. I was attached to some items because I had owned them for a long time and they had just always been in my life. For other items, I was unsure of letting go because I wondered if I needed them or would miss them too much.

Searching through my physical home and belongings takes a lot of work and is still a work in progress. Sometimes I put away something I want to keep so that it doesn’t get damaged or lost, but then I can’t remember where I put it. This happened in December when I found an old pattern my mother had used, and I put it away to show one of my granddaughters. Then I forgot where I put it and needed to search for it. Other times I buy something new and need to find a place for it, so I must decide what needs to leave my home to make room for it. For example, my husband and I just sorted through our clothes to figure out which items were worn out and should be used as rags, and which items we didn’t wear and could be donated to someone else.

But in my emotional and spiritual life, I can’t do the cleaning by myself. Discouragement, loneliness, anxiety, and even the darkness of depression try to move in and crowd out the peace that only God can bring. Then I need to rest in God, spend time in scripture, and allow God to search those cluttered corners of my mind and heart. Why do I want to hold on to the hurts? They don’t help me find the peace of God. My anxiousness needs to go, along with perfectionism and their companion called comparison.

“It’s just the way I am,” is something I’ve said too often. And yet, God tells me that is not who I am when I’ve chosen to accept that Jesus died for me on the cross. I have a choice. I can let God search out those unwelcome residents in my mind and heart and clean them out, or I can hang on to them, feel sorry for myself, and live without God’s peace.

I am a work in progress, constantly allowing God to search my heart. God knows my anxious thoughts and my struggle with depression, and God loves me. Much like I plan to continue to work on organizing and searching through my home, I plan to let God work on my heart and mind so I can rest in God’s promises.