Demise of a trinkety thing-a-ma-doo

Recently, someone accidentally broke something in my house. It was an expensive, trinkety thing-a-ma-doo. The person that broke it felt terrible about it. She insisted on repairing it. And when she couldn’t, she tried to re-buy. She felt horrible about the wreckage even though I told her over and over that she shouldn’t worry about it.

I hated the way that stupid, broken trinkety thing-a-ma-doo made her feel. It made me angry at the trinkety thing-a-ma-doos everywhere. And it made me want to clear my house of them.

It was a funny day for me. Because I realized that at some point in time … I had truly stopped loving trinkety thing-a-ma-doos.

In the olden days (circa 1985) of our marriage, I was enamored with trinkety thing-a-ma-doos of all colors, shapes and sizes. I collected them with abandon. People gifted me with them. I placed them out and dusted them. They were everywhere. But after some years went by, I got frustrated at having to keep them ‘safe’ from little hands and my careless housekeeping. I prayed about that love affair because I realized it was well … adulterous. I loved them but they kept getting in the way of my ‘people priority.’

The end of this story is that there was something that rescued me from this entanglement.

And though it wasn’t an overnight fix – it did indeed fix me.

Meet my fix.

Sit with it. Study it. Write it on your hand and on your heart.

And be free, my friend, from the idolatrous love of trinkety thing-a-ma-doos.