Hoarded.

     Ok, so last week I chronicled my tv issue.  One of my favorites was also "Hoarders: Buried Alive." the TLC version.  In case you missed it, this show finds people who are in danger of losing their homes due to having way too much stuff crammed into their homes.  Many times, utilities are broken, the toilets are damaged, and in severe cases, the poor person is living in her or his car.  This version of the show takes a period of weeks to carefully work with the person.  The people are given all the psychological counseling, dumpsters, clean up crew, and time that they need to make head way.  It is, for me, fascinating to watch these people triumphantly throw away and donate the items that had weighed them down and could have left them homeless and evicted.  I cheer for them, pray for them, and hope they make it back into fixed up homes.

     There are three outcomes of the show.  The person in question just cannot change and sadly loses her or his home due to refusal to participate with local authorities.  (Every time I've seen authorities involved, they were called before the show came to help.  Trust me the show does not seek to ruin people's lives.)  This sad ending only happens about once or twice a season, and it is gut wrenching.  The second is the best one.  The person is surrounded by family and tearfully, bravely fights to open her hands to family and close her mind to the symptoms that plague it.  Over the weeks she or he carefully donates helping families in her community, throws away soiled items, has homes repaired thanks to the family and the show, and are allowed to remain in her or his clean shiny, happy looking home.

    The third is unbearable and tragic.  The person does all of the stuff as the person in the second ending, but the damage left by literally tons and tons of objects has pulled her or his home apart.  The house, though now clean and shiny, is unsafe due to the structural damage done by weight the house was not designed to carry.  This has me thinking about my life.

     Where do I just pack in emotional junk and leave it to pile up?  Where do I allow the stuff, baggage, and garbage of my heart come between me and my friends and family?  Do I invite Jesus in to regularly clean out my heart and make it welcoming or friendly?

     The good news is that none of us is beyond repair.  All of us are fixable in the loving, tender hands of the Great Physician.