When I talk about our marriage I do not dare reveal any of my wife’s personal flaws or even admit if she has one. That is between her and her Creator. However, I can say that I am aware of my own problems and have learned much by acknowledging them.

One lesson came as a result of a situation which occurred early in our marriage.

We had a spat and I asked my wife, "What do you want me to do?" Surprisingly, of all the ways she could have answered that question, she ended up saying, "I want you to take out the trash on time, every week, without me telling you." I pursued some clarity to see how important this was and asked, "How many times can I mess up on this during a year and still be okay?" She replied, "You cannot mess up even once." Wow! She was serious! Expectation duly noted!

Actually, I still forget to take out the trash occasionally. However, I have earned enough "good boy" points through the years to be granted a rare mistake. That’s my story and I am sticking with it.

Taking out the trash is a big deal for a family. If the garage were to be filled with junk, stuff, things, garbage, and crud, life could get pretty miserable. We would find ourselves making a path through piles of mess, stepping over last week’s scraps, and fighting for space to store the bicycles. Trash is smelly and messy. Trash invites varmints and pests. Trash can take on a life of its own. The trash has got to go!

Lives have literal trash like I described above, but they also have figurative trash. The trash that is harder to see is composed of bitterness, anger, lost opportunities, missed chances, or forsaken dreams. The stuff that can leave a foul smell might be troubled relationships, broken homes, unforgiven trespasses, unrealized aspirations. Our lives can be cluttered by remembering an offense, holding on to a hurtful word, or clutching a nagging memory.

Sometimes the trash lingers so long it becomes a "dear friend." This "junk" becomes such a part of us that we feel we can never let it go. The "stuff" not only takes on a life of its own, but it becomes who we are, how we see ourselves, the way we are defined. We have all met the guy who was dumped sixteen years ago and cannot let it go. His misery steps forward in every conversation and contaminates every relationship. This is a guy we learn to avoid. He has a strange aroma, and most persons can smell him a mile away.

So? My suggestion for a new year is that each of us take stock of our lives and put out the trash. Your dad treated you lousy, but it is time to let it go. Your kids showed you no respect, but you have to forgive them. That gal at work dumped all her problems on you, but it is now time to move on. Take a look at your life. Step up with courage. Set the trash out on the curb. And don’t bring it back into the house. The trash has got to go!