http://barnimages.com/

A million years ago when my husband started a new company, the man he had appointed as the CFO bought a giant copy machine—the very expensive kind that would befit a bustling business. The company eventually split into two separate businesses: one grew to be quite successful and was sold; the other fizzled out and died. The copier ended up being a very large monument to the failed part of the company. We moved it into our house where it has stayed for the last twelve years. Along the way it stopped printing in color and is too old to connect to wifi.

My husband, bless his heart, has a hard time parting with stuff, especially expensive stuff. It takes on more significance in his life than a bunch of plastic and metal pieces should. Even if it’s a copy machine that doesn’t work and is roughly the size of a Fiat.

A few days ago I begged and pleaded for the millionth time to please get rid of the thing. Nobody services that model anymore and you can’t even buy parts for it. The years of pleading have worn down my husband and in a fit of practicality he agreed. So we spent fifteen minutes struggling to get it out to the end of the driveway and then posted an ad in the freebie section of Craig’s List. It disappeared from our lives a few hours later.

Walking into my house over the last day or two and not seeing that stupid copier sitting in my dining room, “hidden” by a folding Chinese screen, has brought me pure joy. I want to twirl around like Maria von Trapp in an Alpine meadow. I want to hug everyone and shout hallelujah.

I hadn’t realized how much that copier reminded me of our past mistakes and failures; But my husband felt that as long as we had the copier, that chapter of that book wasn’t finished yet. Even though the business closed years ago, the copier meant there was still hope. Whatever our beliefs about the meaning of that gigantic bit of office equipment, I hadn’t realized how much it was sapping my happiness.

What else in my life is sapping happiness like that?

Not just physically (this isn’t about tidying up and becoming organized. If you want that, check out Jennie’s post) but spiritually?

There are a couple of things that flash into the back of my mind when I ask myself that question. I don’t want to admit that there are some things I need to let go of, but I’m afraid to be without them. Not sins exactly, but things and feelings that need to be shoved out onto my emotional driveway to be hauled away because I don’t need them anymore. They’ve become huge like that copier.

The Atonement isn’t just for sin, but for overcoming any issue that has become a heavy weight to carry. The Lord has told us he will help us heal in every way that we need to. He welcomes our burdens and will gladly aid us when we need to get rid of the extra junk inside of us, even the embarrassing things that we have held on to for far too long.

There is no expiration date for the Lord’s help. He never makes fun of us or tells us, “You should have gotten over that years ago!”. So many people have referred to our Savior as The Good Shepherd. Having never lived anywhere near a farm, though, animal metaphors are a little lost on me. But when I picture the Lord coming to me and being really amazing at tidying things up and throwing away the old junk in my soul without being mean and judgy, that’s the kind of Savior that makes me want to throw my hat up into the air and shout, “ya-HOO!”