Eww, what’s that smell? an onion? Nope, a house.

“The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.” (Proverbs 14:1)

“Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain.” (Psalm 127:1)

If you’re tired of me talking about emotional healing, this isn’t the blog post for you. Yep, that’s right! I’ve unearthed plenty more to talk about! And it’s probably going to be one big metaphor!

I’ve heard several people say that healing is a lot like peeling an onion -- it happens in layers. That simile, however, isn’t a very good description for what I’ve been going through recently. Besides -- when I cook with onions, I don’t really do that much peeling. I mostly just chop and hack away.

These past several months, God has been talking to me a lot about houses. I live in an apartment, but for the purposes of this blog post, I’m going to say “house.” For me, this particular season of emotional healing has been a lot like cleaning house -- a house that’s accumulated decades worth of junk, dirt, crap, etc. Yep, that’s right! God is cleaning house.

In the actual physical “house” that I live in and pay rent for, I’ve rarely invited anybody over lately because I’ve needed to catch up on my housecleaning. (Hey, Tirzah, get off your laptop and do some cleaning!) Also because my furniture was built in 1975 and needs to be replaced, but that’s another story.

Yes, I actually did take a housecleaning break after typing that last paragraph. If you’ve kept up with my blog for the past couple of years, you know that keeping a clean house is something I’ve struggled with for some time. (And if you’ve kept up with me on Facebook for the past year, you know that I’m not the least bit domestically inclined. I don’t think my cats mind, though. I’m currently typing this with one arm under a purring feline belly.) I won’t go into the gory details now to explain why, but I’m thankful to report that my house is much cleaner than it used to be. The other night, I almost snapped a triumphant photo of an empty sink... because the dishes were all clean! (ecstatic shock) One practical thing that God has shown me is that I need to clean a little bit at a time (rather than pull an all-nighter to cram in all the cleaning at once). If you’ve ever lived alone, worked full-time, and been very involved with church and socializing, and if you don’t have it in your budget to hire a maid, you understand how truly difficult it can be to keep a clean house. (Mental note: Train cats to scrub shower tiles.)

I have what I call my File Pile, which is a pile of documents (bills, junkmail, notes, etc.) that I need to file away later. “Later” doesn’t always happen. As I was quickly going through my File Pile, I was reminded of events in my life that caused me to put filing on hold: getting laid off, getting a new job, buying a new car, working overtime to pay for the new car, etc. OK, I’ll be completely honest. I have 5 File Piles, some of which with materials that have been waiting for about 8 years to actually be filed anywhere, throughout the house. It’s tempting to just lug in a trash can and say goodbye to my File Piles forever with one fell swoop. I haven’t touched some of it in 8 years, so what have I been missing? It’s garbage, right? Well, I suppose some of it is. But I do have some important documents buried under there somewhere, and I really do need to go through it (someday). I should probably sit down for a few minutes at a time to work on it gradually.

OK, The File Piles are tame. Have you ever seen (or smelled) what happens when you go literally for weeks (or months) without cleaning something like the bathroom or the dishes? I have, and it’s not something I’m proud of. It’s something that happens when you work more than 40 hours a week and feel too tired to do anything besides park your butt on the couch and stare at the TV. You’ll be surprised at how gradually you get used to the mold and mildew that develops, and you’ll be shocked at how gradually you get used to the smell (or convince yourself that it isn’t there). I mean, if nobody comes by your place to check on you, where’s the accountability? If it’s just you and two animals under one roof, the three of you just adjust.

Then there are the closets -- the piles of forgotten junk! Some of the junk were Christmas presents given by people who didn’t know me or my tastes very well, so now they just sit there and take up valuable space. Closets can be scary. When I was moving into my current house, I was stressfully packing up my stuff at my old house; right before I left, I swung open the closet door and noticed in horror that I had completely forgotten to pack the closet. Another pile of crap! (chilling shriek)

Now for the metaphor. The good news is, I don’t own my house. It’s a temple that God owns. He’s the reason for the housecleaning. He’s the One who’s cleaning it with me. And He’s got some serious stain-removing, mold-killing, power-dusting, pile-filing equipment. Sometimes He works really fast, and other times He isn’t in a hurry.

I think I understand one reason why I got so clinically, dangerously depressed 11-12 years ago. My house was dirty. It was filthy, cluttered, dusty, and moldy. There was a stench in the air, I couldn’t quite figure out where it was coming from, and I didn’t completely understand that I was worth investigating its source. The people who frequently visited my house either didn’t smell the stench, or they’d come over with a can of air freshener to cover it up, tell me I was doing OK, and then leave. What none of us realized was that there were some closets that were desperately cluttered to overflowing with sweaty, dirty, old socks that needed laundering. The shower tiles were so mildewy that roaches were making themselves at home in the plumbing. Deep in the bottom of the kitchen sink, somebody neglected to clean a platter after cooking some raw meat, and the dish had been sitting there for so long that the thought of even going near the sink was unbearable. In a sense, it seemed much easier to just declare the house condemned and wait for the bulldozers to come finish it off.

But God is in the business of rescuing houses. He’s in the business of remodeling. He’s in the business of restoration. Sure, there were a few dishes and socks here and there that just needed to be thrown away, and there was a termite problem that’s been taken care of. You’ll be surprised how much junk can accumulate in one place in 35 years. Some of the stuff is junk I brought in myself, and some of it is junk that was given to me like unwelcome Christmas presents that just sat around, took up valuable space, and collected dust. But this house is not condemned. This house is valuable. This house is a place that God looks forward to visiting, spending time in, living in, and enjoying. And He’s more than welcome here. It all belongs to Him. He helps me clean up, tidy up, and sanitize. There are some rooms that are cleaner than others, but there are other rooms that still need lots of attention. There are File Piles that have junkmail mixed in with important documents, and I think God wants to sit down with me and work through it gradually. And yes, sometimes I don’t even feel like a house but an onion that doesn’t get peeled but chopped at and hacked at. But it’s OK. However He lovingly repairs, remodels, and restores my house, I want Him to make Himself at home here.

Back to literal stuff. I really do have company coming over soon, so I do need to catch some Zs, wake up early, and do a bit more tidying up tomorrow morning. Maybe I can bribe the cats to help me out. I’d try using tuna, but I don’t want to ruin how nice and un-stenchlike it smells in here right now. Hmm.