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They have returned, and I forgive them – those fair weather friends who left us to fend off winter’s chill without the warmth of their warble and song. The birds are a welcome sight! You must have seen them on their way home from Miami as they tipped their wings over Nashville and turned northwest – toward St. Louis. It’s just another sign that spring has come and nature breathes a sigh of relief. The daffodils in my back yard poked their heads up first, as if to say, “Is it warm yet?”, and soon the lilac bushes will be full of purplish blooms.

It seems like yesterday that my mom packed me off to Lincoln Elementary with a bouquet of lilacs – their damp stems tucked into a small Mason jar. Sometimes she included a few clippings from the honeysuckle that lay heavy across our old picket fence. The fragrance was intoxicating, and I don’t know who was more pleased – the seven year old who presented them or the crusty old second grade teacher who accepted them.

It was finally warm enough to play outside for a little while, but only with a sweater and a head scarf. Some rainy spring days found us playing on the open wooden porch of our chunky old Craftsman style home. I still remember riding a tricycle across the wooden slats of the porch, from one end to the other, and I have a somewhat vague recollection of a porch swing – whether ours or grandma’s, I’m not sure.

As spring warmed and the days grew longer, I’ll never forget the feeling of absolute freedom that came from shedding bulky sweaters, heavy jackets and scarves to run with the breeze in my hair and sun on my face.

Spring meant something else to my mother, of course. It meant spring house cleaning. I still remember mom taking down the heavy, dark draperies that covered the windows and it’s odd how cheery the room suddenly became. The sunlight streamed in and brightened the corners of what had been a dreary room. Letting in the light, of course, would show up the dust that had been unseen and undisturbed through the winter. She would begin sweeping down cobwebs and taking up the rugs. She took light fixtures apart and carefully washed each piece and put them back together. She washed windows and woodwork, scrubbed floors and walls. She cleaned out cabinets and drawers and closets that had been untouched for a long time, and she washed curtains and linens and aired the mattresses. Not a surface escaped her pail of soapy water. But my favorite part of this spring ritual was when she opened up all the windows to let fresh air into the house and the fan brought again the scent of lilac and honeysuckle.

Dad had his own version of spring cleaning. He would “clean out” the basement and the garage, but it didn’t seem like he actually got rid of much, but rather did a neat stacking of junk. He had come through the depression and was reluctant to part with things, even if their usefulness was questionable. On some occasions, things were thrown out only to find their way back into the house before the trash man could come. We called it boomerang trash.

Times have changed, but we still have our spring rituals. On one designated day in the spring we can haul our old junk, of whatever description, to the curb, and with few exceptions the city will pick up and haul off everything from old refrigerators and televisions to car parts, tree limbs, bathtubs and literally kitchen sinks. You can see all sorts of outdated computer accessories with cables still attached. You can see rows of moldy cardboard boxes full of who-knows-what. One thing you will usually spot after dark is a pick-up truck or two cruising the neighborhood to see what “good junk” they can carry off. That used to bother me at first. How dare they sort through my personal, private trash and carry it away! Then one day it occurred to me that even if they “stole” my stuff and carried it off before the city truck came, at least I’m done with it. It is now their problem to deal with, not mine.

I don’t know all the reasons God created spring, but, you know, it probably wouldn’t hurt us as Christians to do a little spring house cleaning as well. Sometimes we sit for months with a heavy curtain of despair over the windows of our heart, not realizing that just bringing down the curtains and letting in the light of God’s love can bring hope and cheer to an otherwise gloomy situation. And as the light streams in, it will show up areas of our lives that need attention. I want to wash the windows of my mind, my eyes, and make sure that they are not allowing the dirt of this world to filter out God’s glorious light. If I have an issue that needs to be aired out, I want to do it with love and compassion. I want to organize my efforts to evangelize this world and take up the rugs of apathy that encumber my feet. I really don’t want to just keep neat rows of old trash in my life.

You know, the great thing about the Salvation story is that we can bring all of our broken stuff, the old junk of our lives and lay them down - take them to the curb, if you will. The old song says, “Take your burden to the Lord and leave it there.” You may be thinking, “But what if someone sifts through my personal life after I’ve laid my junk down and carries it away through gossip or accusation?” So what! You’re free of it. You can take a deep breath of fresh forgiveness and walk away. You’ve laid it down for the Master to dispose of, and if someone else picks it up, it is now their problem to deal with and they will one day have to divest themselves of it as well.

The Lord says that our sins will be remembered against us no more, and just like taking off a heavy coat, you can experience the freedom this promise brings. There is no boomerang trash with God. Take it to the curb.

Have a wonderful Spring,
Janice Crow

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