To Hoard Or Not To Hoard

The last couple of weeks have been a great opportunity to teach my children how to serve. 
One family, who lost nearly everything to the recent South Carolina floods have become special people to my children. The husband, who is in the advanced stages of ALS, had to be be BOATED out of his house to the safety of the hospital. His wife and daughter were left to grab what they could save- which wasn't much.
Our church leaders asked us to come help with the clearing out of their home and the experience was heartbreaking. 

Watching years of a family's life together pile up soggy and soiled on the side of the street had the toughest of us weeping. Husband and I salvaged the things that we knew could be saved (what would have meant something had it been ours). 
I spent over an hour trying to separate pages of her journal- can you even imagine the loss? My focus was on the pages and I never looked at any of the writing, but I can only assume that their journey (when they discovered his illness) was probably recorded in that book. 
Husband saved his vinyl collection. Music is his life, we couldn't bear to let those go to the street.

This family will start over. It will be hard and some precious things can't be replaced, but they have accepted it all with grace.

Three weeks after the flood, we were surprised with another call. There was a single, disabled sister whose belongings were still outside and there was another storm coming. 

"Can you help move it all back in?" 

I approached the kids with the request. The 12 year-old put down his Kindle and started putting on his shoes. 
The 15 year-old asked, "Who? Why?" and when it was explained to him, shut off his computer and started getting ready. 
The 9 year-old was gathering her jacket and the 16 year-old asked, "WHY does everybody always call us?". 
Legitimate question coming from a boy who leaves for school at 6am and comes home at 5pm, participates in school government and sports and has one day a week that's his--and that's the day we keep pulling him out of the house. 
Question asked, he didn't even wait for an answer to get up and go to the car. 
This was on Halloween. Trick-or-Treating (for their first time in America) would commence in a few hours. I love my children.

My heart sank when we pulled up into the neighborhood. Silly me assumed that her stuff was in boxes, but it wasn't. And a lot of it was wet and moldy. 

We were given directions as to which room to take everything and told to wear masks and gloves before entering the other room that would house the remaining stuff. 
It's still hot here in South Carolina, so the floor was dark, wet and areas of that house had been stewing in the heat for the past three weeks. 

This is where I need to question myself: How much is too much to subject one's children to?  

#parentingFAIL:

MOST of the stuff we carried should have been thrown away weeks ago. A lot of it was not salvageable. 
I've watched enough hoarding shows in my life (and fight my own hoarding tendencies) to know that it's not easy to part with things, damaged or not, but I had to stand my ground over a 
particle board desk that had furry, green mold growing up the sides. 
"I understand you want to keep the desk, but this is NOT good for your health". 
"I'll clean it later" she said. 
But she wanted MY teenagers to carry it. 

We carried boxes littered with mouse droppings. The actual Hoarders crew would have refused and gone home for the day, but because we were "serving", we did it.

This experience will have me questioning that next call that comes in. 
Serving that first family was easy. We worked for 4-5 hours in the heat, only leaving to celebrate at Miss Ky's birthday dinner, sunburned and tired. No regrets. 
The second opportunity to serve made me realize that I don't always put my kids first like I profess. If I did, I would've had them sit in the car while we moved the flood-contaminated debris back into an unsafe house.

What are you holding onto? Any keepsake that doesn't actually bring you joy when you hold it? Get rid of it. You won't even miss it.
I could get profound and ask if there are any 'moldy' memories that do nothing but make you sick with guilt or regret, but that's deep. Maybe another day...