Decluttering our Lives

If you have ever been to our house or driven by, you will have seen a large Tulip Poplar at the end of our driveway near the street. That tree was not “well” and needed to be dealt with one way or another. We had an arborist come over and he made some recommendations — from treating the tree or cutting the thing down. But before we could pick an option, David noticed some tree work being done by a team next door and chatted with the foreman. He made us a good offer to just cut the poplar down and we took him up on it.

Later that day that tree was gone. They also trimmed other trees in our yard, cutting off stray branches that were just sucking up nutrients from the ground and depriving the trees that were left. If you look carefully at the lead photo, you can see the tree climber halfway up a large tree that has shaded the house for years, trimming those excess branches off. (I've saved your eyes and provided a closeup below.)

Anyway, I wasn’t sure I would like the changes to our front yard but as it turns out, I think the whole thing turned out pretty well, and the yard looks much cleaner and less cluttered than before (see the third photo below). And thinking about it, I decided the whole tree and branch-cutting experience could be taken for a metaphor of our lives, which also could probably stand some decluttering from time to time. As mine surely does right now.

A dear friend of mine sent me a book a year or so back titled The Lives We Actually Have by Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie (Penguin Random House, 2023) — a collection of quotes and Bible passages appropriate to our various everyday lives. I turned to one chapter titled, “For This Overwhelming Day,” and wanted to share a bit with you who are reading this blog. In the form of a prayer, the authors write:

I am coming to you just as I am
burnt out, craving rest,
but still tempted to keep going
like I always do,
propelled from one task to the next
if the earth spins because I do.

But I know, deep down,
that this is unsustainable.
Blessed are we
quietly closing the door,
willing to fold ourselves into
this present moment.

Slow me down, God.
Place your hand upon me
and steady the racing of my heart.
Take this weight from my shoulders,
and pry these to-dos from my fingers.
Deepen my breath and still my mind
so that I can remember whose hands really do keep the stars hung in space. I know by my body’s limits
and the clock’s relentless ticking
that not everything has to be
done, and not everything has to be
done by me. (pp. 90-91)

Actually that line — “Slow me down, God” — is from an anonymous prayer written decades ago that I have stuck in the pages of the Bible I keep by my chair in the bedroom and which I sit on during my “unstructured times” during the day, as my youngest son puts it.

Well yes — getting back to our yard — I really like the cleaner view from our porch and, when I can manage it, I love my life as I am trying my best to “un-clutter” it. So, if you could also stand a little decluttering in your daily life, try it yourself. I promise you, you will be grateful for the trimming.