Today we welcome a fresh voice to the Converge Coaching blog… Mary Selzer. Mary is a wife, mother, coach, and a good friend. Hope you enjoy her contribution ~ John

A few years ago I prayed and asked for a “move of God” in my life. As soon as the words left my lips, God seemed to speak to me, “I would be happy to move in your life, but you’ve left me no room. Your life is too much like your mother-in-law’s apartment.” Ouch!

My mother-in-law is a wonderful woman. She’s in her 80’s and her mind is still very sharp. But she has one serious flaw—she loves to collect valuable antiques and she has a difficult time parting with them.

When I first met my in-laws, they were living in a 1,800-square-foot home that was packed with beautiful furniture and family heirlooms generations old. Then they moved into a four-bedroom home where the items could be spread out and their beauty displayed. My father-in-law even built reinforced, lighted glass shelves that lined an entire wall of the dining room, half way to the ceiling, so their extensive (and expensive) pewter collection could be shown off. I often told them they should turn the house into a museum and charge admittance.

After my father-in-law passed away, my mother-in-law moved to a small condo. Now we had a problem. She didn’t want to part with anything. It was all valuable and carried nostalgic significance that brought tears to her eyes if she even thought about giving or selling any of it. So the family helped her cram her beloved items into the cramped living quarters. Hand-carved settees and Windsor chairs filled every available space. The couches, loveseats and chairs held crocheted afghans and throw pillows. The kitchen counter was completely covered with china and tea sets and polished silverware. Framed pictures were hung in three and four rows along the hallway walls. Those that weren’t hung were propped up on the floor. Anyone could enjoy pictures at eye-level, regardless of their height. Even the two beds were covered with various hand-crocheted linens, towels and more afghans. My mother-in-law opted to sleep in a recliner so the displayed items could remain undisturbed.

A few years ago we moved her into an assisted living facility where she was allowed to fill only one room with her precious possessions. It was traumatic, but she did it. My husband selected some pieces to move into our home, and his sister chose a couple of items she wanted to give her girls. Everything else was sold. Isn’t it funny how simplifying one’s life forces a person to seriously evaluate what stays and what goes? In fact what seems to be so valuable one day can lose its appeal the next. The treasured pewter collection has been stuffed into storage boxes that now sit in our basement. We can’t even give the pieces away.

My mother-in-law has never been happier. Probably because there’s a lot less stuff to dust.

God’s point to me was well taken. When he looked at my life, he saw it was filled with really good stuff—church activities, fellowships, ministry to people, family responsibilities, obligations, commitments, concerns—busy, busy, busy. As good as it was, all the “stuff” took up enough room to squeeze him out of the picture. God can do anything, but when he states that it’s difficult for even him to fit into a crowded life, something has to go. I didn’t need a move of God. I needed a move of me—out of an excessively busy life and into God’s assisted living.

Now there’s so much less stuff to dust. And I’ve never been happier.

What needs to move in your life?