2/6/2020 0 Comments A different kind of hoardingA different kind of hoardingOver the past month, I have seen the effects of hoarding up close. I have watched as a family has been ripped apart and their life of unmanageable acquisitions and animals has been exposed. It was upsetting, confusing, and depressing. Those of us trying to help were left with more questions than answers and an outrage that this sort of thing happened. Then a friend stated that I had a similar problem, only I hoarded regret and shame instead of accumulating possessions. I was taken aback. Could my life look as gross as the house of horrors looked? As I pondered what she said, I realized that she was right. Most humans cling to what is known, even if it isn’t healthy. I continued to seek healing and restoration, but clung to the pain because the pain I knew was more comfortable than the freedom of the unknown. I started to feel myself drop into a funk of self-doubt and dislike. Having a head cold, pink eye, and overall malaise just made it worse. Everything felt like an attack. But then God revealed how His redemptive power was working in the life of my friend, and how Her journey from hoarding to health, wasn’t that different from my own. Her journey was obvious and horrendous, once we discovered it. The feces stained floors and carpets reeked of the dementia she appeared to have. The rooms of garbage made me gag when I opened the doors, and caused my eyes to stream with tears of dismay and disgust. How could anyone live like this? What could I do to help? One of those questions was answered when our team decided to move her from the home turned horror show into a clean and safe environment. Another team member accepted the responsibility of her health care. It turns out that her bills weren’t the only things overdue, her doctor visits had been neglected as well. Why am I sharing the personal details of this lady? Because the change in her is remarkable! With the return of her health, came a dawning awareness. We discovered that she had uncontrolled diabetes and was in jeopardy of losing her life. When her diabetes started to be managed efficiently, her mental faculties returned and the dementia dissipated. After her exit from an environment that was full of filth and caused, she regained her physical strength as well. Her hoarding was causing her mental decline, and her mental decline was exacerbating her hoarding. The hoarding then caused more physical issues which made an already difficult situation to control, spiral further into the insanity of her home. It was a vicious cycle. I don’t know which thing caused which, but the perfect storm exploded in that house. The horrible, unthinkable thing that no homeowner ever wants to consider, foreclosure, logically followed the disorder of the environment. But what seemed like a disaster, God turned for her good. Losing all the things that were causing her physical and emotional stress, brought her a freedom she hadn’t felt in years. The chaos of missed appointments and rampant disorder is gone, and in its place is calm, caring people who want to see her live in dignity and peace the remainder of her life. The heavy heart that I carried with me into her house each time I returned has been considerably lightened. I see his hand in all of it now. It’s the “ Beauty from Ashes” story of redemption that my faith is based upon. Now I see how even at her darkest hour, He was holding her close and helping her to a better outcome. When her husband returns from his court appointed vacation, he will be able to walk into a new home free from animal waste and rubbish, and join his wife in celebrating life. They can’t cling to the trappings of society any longer, because they have been ripped from their hands, and they are better off without it. In the years when I was attempting to make money flipping used furniture, I had the same conclusion. I would walk through the rose colored rooms of someone’s grandma and wonder at the life time of accumulation before me. The estate sale companies have no problem putting a price tag on a person’s possessions after the family has acquired whatever they thought was most valuable. Just walk through someone’s home at an estate sale sometime, even their adult diapers are for sale (unused, of course). The knick knacks that the elderly keep hoping to pass onto the next generation end up unwanted. Usually, they are on the 75% off table the last day of the sale and eventually end up in the city dump. Why do we hang on to so much stuff that doesn’t matter? Why do I hang on to things that hurt and weigh me down? It’s my own form of hoarding. I realized we all have our hang-ups and hoarding peculiarities. My husband had been saving every pair of socks I ever bought him just in case he needed old socks for something. Not kidding, three small hills of socks were on my bedroom floor yesterday. We had a come to Jesus and now the men at the community center will have plenty of gently used socks to get them through the rest of this winter. What made him think I wouldn’t buy him more socks if he needed them? The same fear and insecurity that caused my friend to collect a pantry full of hair products and me to harbor hard feelings in my heart. The fear of the unknown. The fear of letting God really have total and complete control over the things in my life and heart that only He has control of anyway. This little rant isn’t to paint a picture of how horrendous the living conditions of my friend were, or to rat out my husband and his amazing collection of socks; it’s an attempt to show how clinging to the things of the world, be it a house full of knick knacks, a lifetime supply of socks, or a heart of hurt, suck the life and spirit out of you. Grasping for anything that isn’t of God is a sure way to lose hold of what matters. God radically shook my friend, and there was a small, but loving group of us to catch her. Now we get to watch her flourish in a way that God had always intended. He never wanted what happened to her to happen, but he used the bad for the ultimate good. He is showing what letting go and trusting God can look like. I believe I am learning a lesson that He has been trying to teach me for years. It just took walking through the muck stained floors of another’s catastrophe to see the way His glory works through anything.
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AuthorI am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.
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