Letting Go of the Garbage

My early morning walk took me through a new portion of my subdivision. To my good fortune, it was garbage day. Oh my… I admit freely today that I have never really perused my neighbours’ refuse. It is probably more than you want to hear but here is a short list: plastic containers of every sort, tin and aluminum cans by the score, pizza boxes, innumerable yogurt containers, beer cans, wine bottles, tables, chairs, baby seats, drywall, windows, carpet remnants, door frames, car tires, kitchen cupboards, Christmas decorations, bikes, tools, cat boxes, birdcages, an air conditioner, a washing machine, and car parts…to name a few. That did not include the green bins with who knows what festering inside.  

None of this was surprising, but the total effect that hit the senses was a little overwhelming. Meanwhile, on the headset playing in the background were some songs of lament (a new Psalm series from Mike Janzen, The Psalms Project). Take that as a plug for Mike, but regardless, the juxtaposition of what we lament, what we forsake, and what we walk away from was rather stark. 

There is lamenting for the sake of expressing what needs to be said to God about our condition, and allowing him to take it from us, acknowledging the tougher elements of life and holding them as a mystery to be dealt with by God in his time. Then there are those things we must walk away from and leave behind because they are tainting our perspective and unduly anchoring us to unsafe places, forestalling our moving to safer waters.

For today, what are we to let go of as “garbage” to put by the wayside and clear the path for God to do his work? What must we free up to unleash the potential to hear from God and provide the fodder for realignment with God’s preferred future? What must be let go of that has satisfied us for selfish or temporal motives but are now to be jettisoned for purer, more holy, ends? 

Lent is that time when we can enter into a season of renunciation. Is there one thing? An attitude, perhaps; a toxic relationship, a destructive habit, a digital universe that has taken away what is good and righteous? 

The curb is waiting; the garbage trucks are at the end of the block; the boys at the rear are loading the bins of our detritus, blind to what is disappearing into the maw of the hydraulic press. What are we waiting for? 

Lord, what am I to give over and away to grow under your protective arms. 

Walking with you.

Your guide,

Doug