When I was growing up, we always bought used cars.
We had a guy.
Whenever my dad went to buy a car from this guy, he would consistently harp on his main--and often, only--selling point.
This is a clean car.
He also had an accent, so the word car had a little flipped "r" on the end.
Imagine it one more time: This is a clean car, Claud. Really, really clean car.
I'll never forget this detail because when my dad came home with a new hunk-of-junk--er... I mean... car--he would try to sell it to us using the same phrase and accent.
The one I remember most vividly was a Volvo station wagon, probably from sometime in the 1800s. Additional selling points to questionable cleanliness included a hand-crank moon roof, and a 6 CD changer. I know, high-tech, right? Forget the fact that you had to physically get out of the car and open the back door to change the CDs. You could get six of 'em in there! Crazy! And the car was clean.
But it barely ran.
Any time we broke down, or had to shut off the AC to make it home, or anything, my dad would joke and smile: Clean car. Really, really clean car.
In order to make this car more functional, we didn't need to take out the Armor All and give it another wipe-down. We needed to dismantle the machine. Take it apart and start over. We maybe even needed to siphon it off for parts in the hopes of gaining enough funds to buy something that functioned.
What's the connection?
Many times when something doesn't feel right in life, we look for the spot-clean.
Sometimes I think:
Well, maybe if my house was clean, my life would function better.
Maybe if circumstances changed, I would be different.
Maybe if I got a new set of bins for classroom organization, things wouldn't feel quite as everywhere.
Then, the floors are vacuumed, you ask for changes and they happen, the bins pile up in the corner just like everything else, and I realize, what I'm waiting on is much deeper than a little bit of wax-on, wax-off.
For things to change, I have to change.
For things to run well rather than barely sputtering along, I have to dismantle the machine, start at the bottom, I have to inspect the bricks on the bottom of the wall.
Here are the bricks I'm plucking from the bottom row as we speak:
Busy + Others Noticing = Worthy
The only path to success and happiness is straight forward, without stopping.
The best plan for the future is the one that's easily understandable.
God owes me a view to His plan whenever I ask for "clarity."
If someone says, "That can't be done," it's my responsibility to do it.
These bricks are those that have made up a whole lot of my world lately. I'm taking them down one-by-one, hoping to rebuild my wall. I'll be unpacking these in the coming weeks, and giving you more detail into each one, and how I'm kicking it to the curb. (Literally imagine me kicking a brick wall. That's what the process feels like.)
What is holding up your wall that needs to be torn down?
What is your "clean car" excuse?
P.S. I hope you all know that I am cheering you on in whatever you are attempting to let go, change, or grow in your life. I hope you'll let me know if I can help in any way! I would love to pray for/with you in your journey.