It is in the upper 90's here in Fort Worth.  It seems like the perfect time to begin my clean out and pack it up operation with the garage.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?  

As I began to sort through all the "stuff", I wondered WHY did I need a dozen screw drivers?  How many can you hold in your hand at one time?  AND THEN there are the Allen wrenches---WHY do I have at least twenty of those things?  Every tool, every piece of furniture has a different Allen wrench it seems. In the event of dire emergency and the need to put something back together or take something apart, I would not have a clue which wrench goes with what.

I know my thinking might be a little off, BUT what could be the possible harm of a universal sized Allen wrench.  Understanding men like their toys, still it would not seem to be much of a thrill to have droves of these little annoying pieces of metal.

Let me not forget the various and sundry pieces of lumber in neat piles all over the place.   WHERE did they come from and for what possible purpose could I have been saving them?  It might be different if they were one uniform size in the slight hope you could build a bird house or some other useful piece of junk  treasure.  No instead they are in various sizes, various types, and no two pieces are the same.  The only possible thing you could build out of this hodge podge is a good fire.

I fear I have hit the tip of the proverbial iceberg.  WHY is it we are so fascinated with collecting junk?  I have enough partial cans of left over paint to cover the Great Wall of China.  WHAT am I going to find when I start with the inside?  I am not a keeper---WHAT must it look like in the houses of those who keep every important?? piece of paper they have ever had their hands on?  There are no closets lined with 3 different sizes of clothes, no shoes from 1950, and NOT ten different sets of dishes.  AND YET, I still have more stuff than you can shake a stick at.

We are all obsessed with our "Stuff" and the accumulation and care of said stuff can begin to take over our lives.  The question becomes--WHO besides me cares about any of this stuff?  Does it add to the quality of my life?  Is it more important than the people in my life?  What will become of it some day?

SO here I go--once again---doing a GUT CHECK on what's important.  God is not interested in my "Stuff Inventory".  He is interested in how I lived my life.  Time to leave a LOT of this stuff behind---AGAIN!

 “Do not accumulate for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.”
Matthew 6:19


  1. You're right. We all seem to be obsessed with collecting things in our live just in case we need them some day. Apparently it is imprinted in our genes and it dates back to Noah, I believe, who first started collecting animals and other creatures. He started with good intentions to save animals like stray dogs, cats and the odd squirrel or armadillo; then he went over the top and collected wasps, fleas, spiders, centipedes and several other creatures which are no good to man or beast. You should have seen him collecting all types of snails, for instance, and ensuring that he had a male and female of every kind. How could he tell the difference, I ask you.

    And now, many years later, we collect pots of paints and wrenches. Personally, I collect dust in our house, just in case there's ever a world shortage. The other day I was sitting in front of the TV when I was asked: "What's on TV?" I replied: "Dust!"

    I got the silent treatment and no hot meal that day.

    God bless.

    1. Thank you for beginning my day with a laugh, Victor! You should stick to putting your wisecracks on paper, or face starvation!

  2. OH boy, Allen not get me started on this...hubby and son and their tools. Hubby said to tell you, "One can never have enough Allen wrenches."

    Gurl...I am suffering with should of seen how much we burned before we moved up here. smiles

    Another great post...loving the posts, Lulu, smiles (and giggling over Victor)

  3. Victor always gives us a laugh in the midst of it all! Thankful for his gift of humor!


Your comments keep my writing and often cause me to think. A written form of a hug or a pat on the back and an occasional slap into reality---I treasure them all!