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> <channel><title>Comments on: No Good Reason</title> <atom:link href="http://ceruleansanctum.com/2008/12/no-good-reason.html/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" /><link>http://ceruleansanctum.com/2008/12/no-good-reason.html</link> <description>Looking for the 1st century Church in 21st century America</description> <lastBuildDate>Sun, 12 Feb 2012 12:37:15 +0000</lastBuildDate> <sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod> <sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency> <xhtml:meta xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" name="robots" content="noindex" /> <item><title>By: Weekend Walkabout, December 20, 2008 &#124; The Daily Scroll</title><link>http://ceruleansanctum.com/2008/12/no-good-reason.html#comment-43061</link> <dc:creator>Weekend Walkabout, December 20, 2008 &#124; The Daily Scroll</dc:creator> <pubDate>Sat, 20 Dec 2008 10:02:42 +0000</pubDate> <guid
isPermaLink="false">http://ceruleansanctum.com/?p=1090#comment-43061</guid> <description>[...] No Good Reason - Cerulean Sanctum &#8220;In sorting through this clothing, the realization that I throw away just about nothing hit home.&#8221; [...]</description> <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>[...] No Good Reason &#8211; Cerulean Sanctum &#8220;In sorting through this clothing, the realization that I throw away just about nothing hit home.&#8221; [...]</p> ]]></content:encoded> </item> <item><title>By: Ronni</title><link>http://ceruleansanctum.com/2008/12/no-good-reason.html#comment-42947</link> <dc:creator>Ronni</dc:creator> <pubDate>Wed, 17 Dec 2008 01:38:11 +0000</pubDate> <guid
isPermaLink="false">http://ceruleansanctum.com/?p=1090#comment-42947</guid> <description>I fought this my entire life.  My parents not being believers and falling for the typical consumeristic ploys thought that the more they gave me stuff wise, the more loved I&#039;d feel.  Instead I got screamed at for not being able to keep my room clean (I have pics) when it was utterly impossible to contain the clutter and the seemingly hurt feelings when I wanted to pitch stuff.
There is this odd expectation that if someone gives you a gift, you are required to keep, use, and display it.  I think a good part of the clutter in our lives is from stuff people have given us.  Thing is, if they really knew us, it would be something we truly needed/wanted so there wouldn&#039;t be extra.  How many times have you thought, &quot;if they&#039;d taken the money they spent on all this and put it together with others, I&#039;d have the new tires I need... etc&quot;  Insert your own need you can&#039;t seem to afford here.
It&#039;s a mindset.  Marrying my husband I had to battle it as well.  Thank God He hears prayers because we went from a 2000 sq ft house with a garage to a 2brm townhouse with no storage.  We only moved what we needed.  We sorted everything.  We sold stuff, we gave stuff away.  We still have stuff I&#039;ve tried to find homes for.  (Boxes of theology and Christian books mostly).  Books are my downfall.
What is it about clutter?
I remember a nun I worked for years ago.  She had such a simple room.  A bed.  A chair.  One bookshelf, a side table and a dresser.  A small closet.  That was everything.  I asked her if that was everything.  She said something that stuck with me.  &quot;Needing more than what is required right now, shows lack in faith that God will bring us what we need, when we truly need it.  This is everything I need for right now.&quot;
Yeouch.  I still carry that.</description> <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I fought this my entire life.  My parents not being believers and falling for the typical consumeristic ploys thought that the more they gave me stuff wise, the more loved I&#8217;d feel.  Instead I got screamed at for not being able to keep my room clean (I have pics) when it was utterly impossible to contain the clutter and the seemingly hurt feelings when I wanted to pitch stuff.</p><p>There is this odd expectation that if someone gives you a gift, you are required to keep, use, and display it.  I think a good part of the clutter in our lives is from stuff people have given us.  Thing is, if they really knew us, it would be something we truly needed/wanted so there wouldn&#8217;t be extra.  How many times have you thought, &#8220;if they&#8217;d taken the money they spent on all this and put it together with others, I&#8217;d have the new tires I need&#8230; etc&#8221;  Insert your own need you can&#8217;t seem to afford here.</p><p>It&#8217;s a mindset.  Marrying my husband I had to battle it as well.  Thank God He hears prayers because we went from a 2000 sq ft house with a garage to a 2brm townhouse with no storage.  We only moved what we needed.  We sorted everything.  We sold stuff, we gave stuff away.  We still have stuff I&#8217;ve tried to find homes for.  (Boxes of theology and Christian books mostly).  Books are my downfall.</p><p>What is it about clutter?</p><p>I remember a nun I worked for years ago.  She had such a simple room.  A bed.  A chair.  One bookshelf, a side table and a dresser.  A small closet.  That was everything.  I asked her if that was everything.  She said something that stuck with me.  &#8220;Needing more than what is required right now, shows lack in faith that God will bring us what we need, when we truly need it.  This is everything I need for right now.&#8221;</p><p>Yeouch.  I still carry that.</p> ]]></content:encoded> </item> <item><title>By: David</title><link>http://ceruleansanctum.com/2008/12/no-good-reason.html#comment-42937</link> <dc:creator>David</dc:creator> <pubDate>Tue, 16 Dec 2008 21:39:17 +0000</pubDate> <guid
isPermaLink="false">http://ceruleansanctum.com/?p=1090#comment-42937</guid> <description>&quot;Life is full of piles&quot; wrote a certain Christian author many moons ago.  A friend of ours lost their barn to a fire last Christmas, and it plunged them into a depression because they realized that so much of what they thought they had given to God was burned to ashes.  No gold there.  They determined to not focus on building more barns, but rather emptying themselves for Christ.  Now there is a bigger barn on the farm, and more chickens. And a replacement dog for the one that died in the fire.  I&#039;m not sure what the lesson is.  &quot;Less is more&quot; is attractive, but somehow, after emptying the rooms, sweeping up, and generally making things clean, it just invites more junk: &quot;Twice as ready...&quot; as it were.
My house is small, and we are constantly battling the increase of &quot;stuff&quot;.  Thankfully we don&#039;t have a rented storage rooms somewhere.  But this consumer nightmare we find ourselves in, almost accidentally buying more, needs to become more deliberate.  Perhaps keeping in mind the Bangledeshi girl who sewed our shirt, or the Salvadoran mother who stitched our pants, will make us think twice about how much we need something new.  Perhaps a homeless man will make us reconsider wearing something until it falls apart.
Perhaps.
But more than that, I suppose, is the deliberateness of our heart in the morning, and the constancy of our devotion to God throughout the day.  I&#039;m convinced that many of the agonies we go through are due to the fact that unlike Elijah, we don&#039;t recognize the calm, subtle breeze as the presence of God.  If we listened, perhaps then we would not have the stress of uncertainty, but rather the peace of knowing.
Then, like Paul, we would learn to be content in all situations.  With piles, or not.</description> <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&#8220;Life is full of piles&#8221; wrote a certain Christian author many moons ago.  A friend of ours lost their barn to a fire last Christmas, and it plunged them into a depression because they realized that so much of what they thought they had given to God was burned to ashes.  No gold there.  They determined to not focus on building more barns, but rather emptying themselves for Christ.  Now there is a bigger barn on the farm, and more chickens. And a replacement dog for the one that died in the fire.  I&#8217;m not sure what the lesson is.  &#8220;Less is more&#8221; is attractive, but somehow, after emptying the rooms, sweeping up, and generally making things clean, it just invites more junk: &#8220;Twice as ready&#8230;&#8221; as it were.</p><p>My house is small, and we are constantly battling the increase of &#8220;stuff&#8221;.  Thankfully we don&#8217;t have a rented storage rooms somewhere.  But this consumer nightmare we find ourselves in, almost accidentally buying more, needs to become more deliberate.  Perhaps keeping in mind the Bangledeshi girl who sewed our shirt, or the Salvadoran mother who stitched our pants, will make us think twice about how much we need something new.  Perhaps a homeless man will make us reconsider wearing something until it falls apart.</p><p>Perhaps.</p><p>But more than that, I suppose, is the deliberateness of our heart in the morning, and the constancy of our devotion to God throughout the day.  I&#8217;m convinced that many of the agonies we go through are due to the fact that unlike Elijah, we don&#8217;t recognize the calm, subtle breeze as the presence of God.  If we listened, perhaps then we would not have the stress of uncertainty, but rather the peace of knowing.</p><p>Then, like Paul, we would learn to be content in all situations.  With piles, or not.</p> ]]></content:encoded> </item> </channel> </rss>
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