Fires, Tornadoes, and Clutter

As day 4 of the kitchen renovation comes to a close, I am reminded why yellow is such a tricky color to use on walls. Thanks to my eco-friendly lightbulbs (those ones that look like confused slinkies), the yellow resembles a neon green at night - the kind of spring flourescent green I remember white light created at the night clubs I haunted night after night so many years ago.

I do like the color during the day and in the morning, and I am sure not running out to switch the color anytime soon! One chaotic renovation at a time, please! If I don't need a second coat, I will be putting the kitchen back together tomorrow, adding a couple of new accents, and calling it good for the time being.

My Mary Kay Sales Director who lives in Indiana stopped by today. She shared her story of how she got into Mary Kay and reminded me of how it can boost my self-confidence. I listened to her and took in all she said. Upon hours of reflection, I really don't think my confidence needs boosting. My confidence in myself is what caused me to marry someone who wasn't right for me in the first place. Maybe I need a dose of humility instead and an opportunity to slow life down a bit - learn how not to be so busy for a change. These last few days in the kitchen have really provided that opportunity. It is hard to run around town when you are covered in primer and yellow/neon green paint from head to toe.

One think is for sure. She saw how scattered I am since my house looks like a tornado tore through it. I expect Aunty Em and Toto to pop out from under a pile of chaos at any time. What I do realize at this point is my thoughts are all over the place at the moment and I need to take time to process all that has happened and figure out what it is that is most important to me, and I don't think those are questions that will be answered overnight.

I have been watching for potential fires, then dousing them as they ocurred for the last few years. Life has been far from calm and peaceful, full of nervous anticipation of the next crazy thing my husband would do when he was boozed up. Therefore, it's really no surprise that my house resembles the chaos I no longer have to deal with from him. Looking around this house the last few weeks, I can't get over how many projects my husband of six years began and then stopped. That is NOT the sober man I knew. That is the alcoholic demon that took him over.

So now as I pick up the house and begin putting the rooms back in order, I imagine I will begin to organize the clutter of both good and bad memories from the last few years assigning each one to the appropriate pile. I will undoubtedly discard some memories not deeming them worthy of even the Goodwill pile, tuck others away to be pulled out during fond moments of reminiscence, and give others appropriate drawer space somewhere in my brain to be looked at when a future situation comes up that requires me to use the wisdom God has allowed me to gain. They may serve as warnings or reminders of what not to do as I begin the newest leg of my journey. I am grateful for this time which allows me to sort through all the clutter and put things in their proper place.