Junk Drawer Nineveh
Growing up, we had what my mom called the "junk drawer." It was the drawer right by the fridge in the kitchen where pens and coupons and birthday candles went to die. Essentially, it was a nice place to cram things you weren't quite sure where they belonged or were too lazy to take the time to put back in their proper location. Every year, about the time Mom got on her cleaning kick that involved roulette with unidentified leftovers in the fridge, we would dump out the junk drawer, throw out the expired coupons, test all the pens, and vow that we would remember we owned birthday candles. Inevitably, that drawer filled up again throughout the year and we repeated the purge cycle on the regular.
These past few months, I have been living in the junk drawer of my brain and it wasn't until my recent trip to New York that I slowed down enough to test some pens and light a few candles. There’s something about being alone in a city full of people that is hauntingly beautiful for someone like me. An INFJ, Enneagram 1 wing 2, developer/learner/empathy/ input/individualization, beaver/golden retriever, S from DISC kind of person. The chance to explore on your terms, taking extra time to sit in the park or eat lunch at that super touristy place at 1:30pm instead of noon or get off at the wrong subway station and have to walk a couple extra blocks without complaint or “if-onlys.” It also means I can go hours without having to say a word or listen to anyone else aside from the thoughts in my head. And not feel guilty about it. This is probably not super healthy all the time, but for this short time, it is a get-away, even amidst thousands of people. Blipping around the city in this individual bubble, I intentionally slowed down enough to reflect on what else is going on, moving beyond using email subject lines to guide my decisions and worth.
As an internal processor and highly sensitive person, when my days are so full that all I want to do when I get home is turn my brain off instead of sift through the barrage of emotions and experiences from that day, feelings and moments get thrown into the junk drawer, or inbox, of my brain instead of back into the proper places around the house. To compensate, I skim the subject lines flooding my email and use those to guide me instead of taking the time to find what is real and what is junk.
"Under 30 and a rising star? ⭐ Find out how much you are worth in this career assessment!"
"Five quick and painless steps to curing your anxiety INSTANTLY"
"Limited time offer ⏰ : Join the Mom club and know where you belong"
"🛥 🛥 🛥 Click here for the FASTEST way to Tarshish!"
Whew. Looking at them, you'd think I would have recognized them for what they are--junk. But unlike email where you can pretty easily identify the spam from the important, my unwillingness to slow down and sort the rubber bands from the empty straw wrappers was careening me down a life of lies and false hopes. Taking me in the direct opposite direction of where and who God has called me to be; away from Nineveh.
A.W. Tozer said, “In every generation, the people who have found God have been those who have come to the end of themselves. Recognizing their hopelessness, they have been ready to throw themselves on the mercy and grace of a forgiving God.”
I'm gonna guess my mom wasn't at the end of herself when she came around to her annual junk drawer purge (although, you never know, sometimes these little things just get us going), but I found myself at the end of myself in New York, amongst tens of thousands of people. Acknowledging my hopelessness to figure things out, to not open the click-bait, to get out from among the bread bag ties and dried out Sharpies. My utter dependence on the grace of our God is the only thing that can give me direction and purpose and ultimate peace. And maybe ongoing I'll be able to take time to decide what to keep and what to toss immediately so my inbox and junk drawer takes longer to fill, less rushing to sort and a willingness to get on the boat to Nineveh the first time around.
These past few months, I have been living in the junk drawer of my brain and it wasn't until my recent trip to New York that I slowed down enough to test some pens and light a few candles. There’s something about being alone in a city full of people that is hauntingly beautiful for someone like me. An INFJ, Enneagram 1 wing 2, developer/learner/empathy/ input/individualization, beaver/golden retriever, S from DISC kind of person. The chance to explore on your terms, taking extra time to sit in the park or eat lunch at that super touristy place at 1:30pm instead of noon or get off at the wrong subway station and have to walk a couple extra blocks without complaint or “if-onlys.” It also means I can go hours without having to say a word or listen to anyone else aside from the thoughts in my head. And not feel guilty about it. This is probably not super healthy all the time, but for this short time, it is a get-away, even amidst thousands of people. Blipping around the city in this individual bubble, I intentionally slowed down enough to reflect on what else is going on, moving beyond using email subject lines to guide my decisions and worth.
As an internal processor and highly sensitive person, when my days are so full that all I want to do when I get home is turn my brain off instead of sift through the barrage of emotions and experiences from that day, feelings and moments get thrown into the junk drawer, or inbox, of my brain instead of back into the proper places around the house. To compensate, I skim the subject lines flooding my email and use those to guide me instead of taking the time to find what is real and what is junk.
"Under 30 and a rising star? ⭐ Find out how much you are worth in this career assessment!"
"Five quick and painless steps to curing your anxiety INSTANTLY"
"Limited time offer ⏰ : Join the Mom club and know where you belong"
"🛥 🛥 🛥 Click here for the FASTEST way to Tarshish!"
Whew. Looking at them, you'd think I would have recognized them for what they are--junk. But unlike email where you can pretty easily identify the spam from the important, my unwillingness to slow down and sort the rubber bands from the empty straw wrappers was careening me down a life of lies and false hopes. Taking me in the direct opposite direction of where and who God has called me to be; away from Nineveh.
A.W. Tozer said, “In every generation, the people who have found God have been those who have come to the end of themselves. Recognizing their hopelessness, they have been ready to throw themselves on the mercy and grace of a forgiving God.”
I'm gonna guess my mom wasn't at the end of herself when she came around to her annual junk drawer purge (although, you never know, sometimes these little things just get us going), but I found myself at the end of myself in New York, amongst tens of thousands of people. Acknowledging my hopelessness to figure things out, to not open the click-bait, to get out from among the bread bag ties and dried out Sharpies. My utter dependence on the grace of our God is the only thing that can give me direction and purpose and ultimate peace. And maybe ongoing I'll be able to take time to decide what to keep and what to toss immediately so my inbox and junk drawer takes longer to fill, less rushing to sort and a willingness to get on the boat to Nineveh the first time around.
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