Unruly Junk

When we moved into a new house last year, I picked out the ultimate junk drawer in the kitchen. It was deep and wide, just like the song, and I had visions of junk dancing in my head.  It was in a perfect spot to catch random school supplies, warranties, pens that were low on ink, and the occasional quarter. I loved that drawer until the day a bag of pastel, foam letters exploded inside it (or shall I say that a “certain triplet” dumped the whole bag out on a quest for a sharpened pencil). Ahem. From that day forward, the junk drawer went down hill. Every paper torn, eraser lost, pencil broken, and the dish ran away with the spoon. But, never fear, Hello Kitty Ductape got miffed at the living conditions and decided to take matters into her own hands. She taught every resident of the junk drawer what it felt like to live side-by-side in perfect harmony in her Ductape prison. Yes, that was the demise of the junk drawer. Of course, the entire situation was underground until I approached the junk drawer about delivering up a foam letter Y.

Sure, I could blame the kids, but I will take the mommy-high-road and admit that I stashed things in the drawer with the best of them. I hid precious loot in it as well: the occasional dollar in the back under the “warranties” (so that it wouldn’t get confiscated for the husband’s morning coffee run),  nice work pens, and the occasional gluten-free cookie. Oh come on, am I not human?!?!? But, when  I needed one simple Foam letter Y for Laci’s project, the drawer was less than kind. Apparently, there was one lonely Y in the entire drawer and Miss Kitty wasn’t giving up any information.  Do you know how much I hated the drawer once it wouldn’t give me what I lacked?

Sigh.

I have to admit, however, that the entire situation bore an eery similarity to a spiritual struggle I had years before. That junk drawer was just like my mind had been as a young adult. In my late teens and early twenties, my mind was in utter chaos. It was a junk-drawer on feet, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I would pray that God would help me, but I was never active in confessing God’s Word to counter all the lies I had believed. I would smile on the outside, but I was a wreck emotionally. I was fearful, insecure, and spiritually weak. I would attempt to compartmentalize my struggles, and for a season, I would be fine. Since I didn’t know how to properly uproot the problem, I simply learned how to manage my junk well. No one ever suspected that I was dying inside. Until one day, I really wanted to be free. I really wanted the peace that a relationship with Christ offered me. I really wanted to dwell on God, not on my problems, or my life,  just Him. And for the first time ever, I realized that I had been greatly deceived. It felt impossible to find one, solitary space that wasn’t already taken hostage by the Enemy and his lies. I had let the junk multiply and grow until it was a stronghold that held me more tightly than any Hello Kitty Ductape could ever dream of.

After much prayer, revelation, and God’s divine deliverance, my mind began to clear. I learned that I couldn’t be a passive spectator when it came to my thought-life, but that God had called me to be an active gatekeeper. I had to constantly renew my mind with God’s Word in order to remain free. It was hard work. I made up scripture cards and even recited them when I went grocery shopping. During that season, I learned an important lesson about junk. You can rename it, move it around, tie it up, and yell at it, but until you use God’s Word to remove it…junk will be junk. I didn’t hate my junk drawer until I couldn’t control it. I didn’t hate it until it overflowed, and spilled its’ putrid contents into every area of my life. Anybody with me?

Think about your own mind. Do your thoughts condemn you? Is your mind a place of unrest and confusion? Are you controlled by fear, envy, hate, or insecurity? Are you hiding things? If you answered yes, you very well may have some unruly junk in your life. But, never fear, there is no mess too big for the blood of Jesus. No drawer too wide or too deep for God to fill it with His presence.