Trashed

This poignant reflection was written by a hurting woman several years ago...

There’s a huge pile of trash in front of my house today. It’s an organized heap of valueless garbage. Fortunately, it’s only there for three days when a man with a truck will be paid to take it away. Still, it makes me feel badly. When you pile trash in front of your home, people notice. Some come out of the woodwork to ask you if you are selling or giving away anything “good.” They make small talk. Others poke through the pile when you go inside. Even more drive by and think to themselves, “My, that’s quite a pile of trash in front of her house.”

When your junk is in the driveway, you feel exposed, like part of the pile itself. Maybe that’s why it’s organized -- and on a tarp. Maybe that way, it’s “acceptable junk.”

Scooping up and bagging the shards of glass, broken tiles, wood scraps, soiled rags, mostly empty paint cans, nails, and sawdust; hauling the twisted metal of former treasures; and stacking the water-damaged peg board and unusable appliances is hard work. Physically, the dust clogs your eyes and nose, and the glass and wood tear at your flesh, even when protected. Emotionally, assembling and exposing the junk pile is wrenching for many reasons, but mostly because it’s not “my” trash. You see, this pile is literally the last remnant of my recently ended marriage.

The symbolism is striking.

The residue of infidelity doesn't go away quickly. It’s sticky. It stains, it stinks, and it leaves trash behind for those caught in the middle to clean up. It, like all sin, is forgivable by a holy and merciful God. Thank you, Lord. But while forgiveness cleanses the soul, it doesn't spot clean the pain -- the junk.

People respond to those thrown to the curb as a result of sin much the same as they do to the literal junk pile. Some are oblivious, some drive by and take note but make no direct comment, some blame the one exposing the junk, and a few take the risk to step into the shards and sawdust.

Brothers and sisters, I beg you to get dirty by meeting “trashed” people in the middle of their messes. This doesn't mean solving their problems, taking on their troubles, pushing your own boundaries, or meddling. It’s likely to be uncomfortable. You won’t say “the right thing” (because it doesn't exist). You could be met with tears.

Do it anyway. Please?

Extend your concern. Affirm their value. Let them know you care. These acts go a long way to turn trash into treasure.

Thank God that people helped me turn trash to treasure.