It started with that representative from the architectural committee of the homeowners’ association who came over to approve stain colors for my fence.
“It’s a terrible time to sell!” she reminds me. “You’ll probably lose a lot of money.”
Great.
Next comes the realtor.
“The market really isn’t that bad,” she assures me. “In fact, with a little luck, you may even break even. Now, here are your top seventeen competitors in the neighborhood. . . .”
I feel better already. NOT.
Then comes the stager. This is the person who tells you everything you need to change or get rid of to make your home attractive to buyers. For most mere mortals, the stager’s visit would be a source of anxiety. Not for me. I watch HGTV’s Designed to Sell at least three times a week. I know the drill: get rid of all the personal photos and chotchke, clear off all surfaces, de-clutter, remove excess furniture, yada, yada, yada.
So, for three days of my spring break I packed, cleaned, rearranged, and ruthlessly rid myself of all that was unnecessary, while generous friends painted some rooms. Then, aching and exhausted, I sit back to admire my streamlined home, smugly thinking how impressed the stager will be on the morrow.
The appointed time arrives. In walks the stager and glances around the room. “The first thing you’ll want to do,” she says, “is de-clutter.”
I smile and nod, but inside I’m screaming, “what? de-clutter? what do you think i’ve been doing here for the past three days, anYway?”
It went downhill from there. She told me I need to thoroughly clean some things. Imagine, suggesting that I don’t keep my house clean! Didn’t I just clean those dusty blinds, uh, a year ago? Later, she sent me an eleven-page list of things to do to get my house ready to sell. Eleven pages. She did soften the blow by saying that I have a lovely home on a lovely street. She probably says that to everyone, but it still made me feel better.
To add insult to injury, as the stager was leaving, she suddenly looked down at the outside wall near the front door. I followed her gaze and saw what she saw—TERMITES! In that weak moment of panic I thought to myself, “what’s next? a plague of locusts?”
Later that day, after praying a lot, I regained my perspective and sense of humor about it all. While buying a house is much more fun than selling one, selling gives us a chance to evaluate, clean out, and get a clearer view of our homes through a fresh, objective set of eyes. What happens in our houses is so similar to what happens in our own hearts and souls. Over time, junk and dust can accumulate there, but living in the midst of it, we can’t see it. This stuff can range from excess baggage we simply don’t need to carry that weighs us down, such as taking on false responsibility for someone else’s life, to truly toxic attitudes and thought patterns that threaten the health of our souls, like unforgiveness.
Good clues that we need some personal de-cluttering may be that sense that we’re in a rut, a lack of joy and peace, heaviness or depression, or a lack of forward momentum in life. Periodically, it’s helpful to invite a trusted friend or pastor to help us see what we cannot see for ourselves. Most of us are like my home as described by the stager: lovely, but in need of some basic cleaning and de-cluttering. Having the courage to hear an honest friend’s evaluation of our lives can help us to spiritually de-clutter and lighten our load.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk with the exterminator.
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