John gave me a beautiful desk. Fifteen years ago, he found an oak roll top listed on eBay within driving distance. In the small window of time that I was at an event, he rented a trailer, picked it up in New Jersey, brought it home, shoved aside the furniture and landed it in place with a thud. All eyes were on me as I walked in the door minutes later, which was confusing, but my reaction did not disappoint. It has forty drawers, which is more than enough to keep track of the incessant stream of paper that life brings us. 

I love it. Actually, I love that John knew it would help our family stay organized, which matters when you need to keep track of a passport, or banking statements. Things that go dormant for years suddenly erupt as crucial. 

Benjamin has adopted the desk, though, for his personal use. I am content to share, and currently spend more time at a table across the room while he watches multiple screens at the roll top. But it has deterred me from filing in the many drawers. 

In the spirit of a new year, I decided to address this. I gathered the unkempt piles of bills and documents that have been in paper purgatory for months. When Ben was off having fun, I reclaimed my former space long enough to properly store them in folders. Some of the categories are obsolete, like the Mortgage, while others are new, like Chaplaincy. There are folders that are slim, while others are bulging to the point of making it difficult to close the drawer. 

In the days following the cleanup, I felt a difference. When a credit card statement arrived, instead of that shrug of "I'll put this away later", I jumped out of my chair. This had a place, and I knew where it belonged. It was satisfying. 

The number of drawers on my desk seems apropos. Forty is the collection of days that Jesus was in the wilderness, and that Noah heard the rain come pelting down. It is the number of years that the Israelite nation wandered in the wilderness, and the span of days that Goliath taunted Israel before David challenged him. 

As I age, I am becoming calmer about the deluge of data that comes at me when I am minding my own business. Some things oblige me to respond. Others can be filed away under the heading "Wait and See". The folder marked "Trust God" is getting fatter, and the one called "Emergencies" has fewer entries. 

Plus, I am banking on the hope that entry to heaven will not require a passport.