One thing led to another, and I ended up knee-deep in my mother’s bedroom after emptying her two closets and every drawer in the dresser and bureau. What started as a 10-minute effort to make it easier to find a shirt turned into an episode of Extreme Clutter. The sun burned hot in the sky when we started, and had sunk into sleep by the time I left. But oh what glory: We classified and sub-classified into “winter tops,” “winter slacks,” “summer tops,” “summer slacks,” “lose 5 pounds,” and “thrift store-bound.”
By the end of the day we sat exhausted on the bed admiring our bagged and labeled piles and the clean look of the closet, with slits of light between each article of clothing. My mother was elated, and at some point during the course of the day I noticed that I had done a good deed. Good deeds that reflect too much on themselves turn poisoned, of course, and we are to be unconscious enough of them to be like a left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing (Matthew 6:3).
[Read the rest of the article at WorldMag.com.]