Sometimes, I like to pop our kitchen garbage can open and peek inside.  Call me weird, but it makes me smile to look upon dirty diaper bundles, flattened cereal boxes, crumpled to-do lists, and damp coffee grounds scattered across the surface of our household debris like dirt.  The most charming trash can items are greasy butter wrappers and the shiny, gold squares of paper I peel off of chicken bouillon cubes when making soup.  They remind me of gleaming gift wrap ripped gratefully from Christmas presents.  They make my heart feel warm.

It’s true that you can learn a lot about a person’s life by going through their garbage, and I unashamedly use the activity to reflect on my own.  It doesn’t make sense to me why this humble can is called it a “wastebasket,” because when I look inside of it, I find evidence of good things.  Apple cores and macaroni boxes mean I have food to eat, Old Navy tags tell me I have clothes to wear, empty Windex bottles and paper towel rolls are proof that I have a home to clean, and smelly diapers and my husband’s holey socks substantiate that I have sidekicks to share it all with.

This “wastebasket,” or so it’s called, whispers of the things I’ve been given and speaks of this sweet, simple life I’ve been granted to live, and of the fact that none of it even comes close to being a waste.

-Posted by Loni

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