< by Jill >

During my walk home from work on Friday, I called my mom. We checked in and exchanged stories from the week, swapping highs and lows. Just as we wrapped up, she said, “I’ve been purging some more stuff from the house this week. Mind if I run a couple things by you?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Looks like a green Halloween costume covered in vines and leaves.”

I knew exactly what she had unearthed: the Peter Pan costume I wore to the Halloween dance my sophomore year of high school. This handcrafted garment featured a rough-hewn, kelly-green skirt trimmed with dangling pompons. The matching top crawled with plastic vines that looped my neck and adjoined an ivy crown (a feminine touch for the otherwise masculine ensemble). I loved that costume. I loved the memory of wearing it to the dance amidst great fanfare.

So, naturally, when my mom asked if she could pitch the Peter Pan costume, my gut clenched up. My heart whispered keep it and my brain asked why?, but before this tête-à-tête erupted, I blurted: “Get rid of it.”

And right then, a wave of relief washed over me. It felt weirdly good to say, I’m done with that.

This happens to dovetail with the sermon I heard on Sunday. In it, pastor Bill Hybels examines “seasons” in life, and how we’re responsible for experiencing them fully and then moving on. So, I’m dedicating this week to doing exactly that. For the next four days, I’m going to open my closet, identify something I’m hopelessly attached to, and pitch it, donate it, move on from it.

I invite you to participate alongside me. If you do, please share!