Stressed Out by Stuff
Julia Ubbenga
4 min read ⭑
The phrase hot mess joined our vernacular back in the 1800s to describe a warm meal, especially a gloopy one (think mess halls). This descriptor’s most common target today? Moms. The term hot mess mom describes a person whose vocation is to care for little people but who does so in a chaotic state. In my experience, identifying with the “hot mess mom” label was driven by my internal state: I felt like I couldn’t meet a set of self-conceived standards, so I gave up instead, and I rarely “had it together.” If you google hot mess mom, descriptors include “disheveled appearance,” “forgetful” and “unorganized.” Parenting from a state of overwhelm has been normalized and even become expected.
Could the rise of moms who identify as a “hot mess” and the rise of stuff-ownership be related? Absolutely.
Fifty-four percent of Americans are overwhelmed by the amount of clutter they have, and 78% of those who call themselves overwhelmed report having no idea what to do with it.
Alireza Valizadeh; Unsplash
My own story reflects these trends. I didn’t know it at the time, but in the metrics of happiness and possessions, my life was a microcosm of the culture at large. In accepting a life-draining, stuff-filled home, I accepted the low-grade stress that came with it. And in my surrender to this mindset, the door to my soul became stuck. Unable to open. Unable to receive God.
I swore by this more-stuff-equals-more-happiness mindset. And with each impulsive shopping trip I took, I taught this mindset to my daughter, just like my grandma had shared it with me.
Walmart became a “happy place” for Eva and me. We would go there multiple times a week, especially in the winter. I loved the light in her eyes upon surveying a new toy display. She’d engage with the toys, sometimes for up to an hour, while I watched or scrolled on my phone.
Walmart was where she learned to ride a bike. With a unicorn helmet on her head and a baby doll strapped to the bike of her choice, she’d cruise full loops around the bike display. We’d talk about going slow around the corners so as not to collide with an unsuspecting shopper. I thought I was instilling life lessons like respect and courtesy. More than anything, I was reinforcing our culture’s lie that we can buy happiness. For me, for all of us, consumption itself isn’t the problem — consumerism, or compulsory consumption, is. We all need basic things. But for many of us, our buying is based on what we’ve been told we need instead of what we actually need.
All this focus on stuff can alter our worldview, reduce our happiness and misplace our identity. First, if we’re not careful, materialism can indirectly distort the way we view others by leading us to prioritize possessions above people. A society founded on consumerism (continual buying and consuming of material possessions) can leave humans quickly devalued. Yet humans have eternal souls, and therefore infinite worth.
The gospel of America — the one that promises possession-based contentment — does not deliver happiness. The actual gospel does.
“Immersed in this stuff-centered, American gospel — wading blindly through a bog of inner and outer distraction and clutter — my life was full. Yet empty. Filled, but not with what mattered. Busy, but lacking connection with the one who mattered most: God.”
Jesus gives a road map to happiness in his Sermon on the Mount when he delivers the Beatitudes. His message is highly countercultural and contrary to America’s “more stuff, more happiness” mantra. In the Beatitudes, Jesus shows us that happiness comes from God alone. He calls us to become poor in spirit, humbling ourselves, emptying ourselves, so as to be filled with him, not the things of the world.
The first beatitude, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” could be extended as an invitation to find happiness in a countercultural life:
Blessed (happy) are you if you’re not seeking happiness in the material things of the world. They are passing.
Blessed (happy) are you if you’re not chasing after the latest momentary feel-good high.
Blessed (happy) are you if you’re not addicted to the esteem of others and don’t find your worth in their approval.
Blessed (happy) are you if you are not making busyness an idol, rushing through this one life.
While we’re busy filling our lives with the things of this world, God longs to fill every corner of our souls to the point of overflowing. To love us so much that it spills onto others. To be the companion who alone resides within our hearts. And he wants happiness for us.
Looking back now at my years of consumerism, I imagine God in a helicopter, hovering over my life, looking for a place to land, for time to spend with me, to imbue my life with happiness. But there wasn’t space. The external and internal clutter left no landing site. He’d hover, come in close, catch my attention on occasion as the noisy rotary blades neared, but never land in my soul. Never stay and rest awhile.
Immersed in this stuff-centered, American gospel — wading blindly through a bog of inner and outer distraction and clutter — my life was full. Yet empty. Filled, but not with what mattered. Busy, but lacking connection with the one who mattered most: God.
As it turns out, the solution to uprooting our excess-induced stress and creating space for God is quite simple, albeit countercultural.
Julia Ubbenga is creator of the popular blog Rich in What Matters and author of Declutter Your Heart and Your Home. Her online projects, which have attracted over fifty million views, help others let go of inner and outer clutter and reorder their lives around what matters most. Julia resides in Kansas City with her husband and their four children.
Taken from “Declutter Your Heart and Your Home” by Julia Ubbenga. Copyright © April 2025. Used by permission of Zondervan.
