In May 2000, I graduated with my Doctor of Ministry from Perkins School of Theology at SMU in Dallas, Texas. Prior to that date, I spent 4 years researching, writing, rewriting, editing and finally defending my dissertation in front of a live audience. It was a hard but proud moment when this huge body of work was finally complete. I had both my decree, a beautiful piece of paper, suitable for hanging, a bound copy of my dissertation on the bookshelf, and a bankers box full of file folders filled with my research, interview notes, first, second and third drafts, along with the final project notes.

I didn’t need any of the research, but I could not part with this bankers box of file folders. It was four years of my life – blood, sweat and tears – stuffed into that box. It was a reminder of my hard work, late hours, sacrifices my family made on my behalf, time away at school, countless books read and annotated, hours in the library and sheer guts and determination. So every time the United Methodist Church moved me, I moved that box. For the first few moves, I would make space in a file drawer for this body of work,
carefully placing each folder in alphabetical order. Sometimes I would muse over my writings and research as I would pack or unpack the bankers box. Reading over countless index cards and interview notes and smiling to myself.

As the moves and the years passed, I got to where I just moved the bankers box and its contents from place to place and office to office without unpacking. I knew I would never use it again for anything, but I couldn’t bear the thought of getting rid of it. In 2021, it sat in the closet on the floor in my office of the church that I was serving. Of course, we all remember what happened that February, snowmageddon happened. My church was shut down for two days, just long enough for a pipe to burst in the attic and
flood two-thirds of the building, including a pastor’s office and that tiny little closet.

You guessed it, that bankers box of research that I thought I could not part with, got soaked. Ink ran, words blurred, notes faded. That useless box of material that I had been dragging around for twenty-one years, was even more useless to me now, all water-logged and icky. What I thought I could never part with, went straight into the dumpster that day.

What are you dragging around? What old feelings or resentments need to be purged from your mental filing cabinet? What is taking up space in the closet of your dreams that needs to go straight to the dumpster? We could all use a good spring cleaning.

On the journey,
Ramonalynn Bethley

Ramonalynn Bethley is the Lead Pastor at First United Methodist Church of Alexandria. You can contact Ramonalynn directly at DrRevRL@fumca.org.