Over the past couple of months, I’ve been slowly cleaning out and packing up my office, going through memories of 15 years with one company, 12 of which were behind the same desk, working for the same magazine. And believe me, there were a lot of “memories” to go through. A good friend of mine compared it to an archaeological dig, and he wondered what all I would find beneath the clutter.

Early on, the challenge was a daunting one: I was faced with drawers and drawers of files, many of which had been untouched since the 1990s, back when electronic storage on huge-capacity hard drives and servers was unheard of. There were slick sheets of fax paper with the words fading away. There were memos to and from our client, Delta Air Lines — many laudatory and a few questioning what in the world we were doing, and some from me that I probably should’ve never sent. There were letters from readers, some complimentary, some complaining, and some from well-known names like Frederick Forsyth, Frank Deford, and even Warren Buffett. There were newspaper clippings, including one from USA Today showing my boss reading the magazine out on the wing of a Delta jet (it wasn’t airborne … I don’t think). There were résumés from staff members and interns I had hired, as well as performance reviews. It was like rummaging through a time capsule of the history of Delta’s Sky magazine.

One thing I learned from this experience is that working for a magazine and being a pack rat are not a good combination. Editors are frequent recipients of what we call “swag.” And every time a PR person would send me something that I thought was somewhat useful, I’d say, “Hey, I might need that one day,” and toss it in a drawer or on a shelf. After many years of doing that, my thoughts recently changed to “Hey, why in the world did I keep that!” Among a multitude of CDs and books, I came across bobblehead dolls, plastic cowboys and Indians, toy race cars, a Magic 8-Ball, and a neat souvenir from the 2002 Olympic Winter Games: a miniature snowboard with boots that you could stick your fingertips in and pretend to do a “front nose fakie” on the slopes of Utah.

Some items I dug up really brought a smile to my face and sometimes a tear to my eye. There was an e-mail from my wife I had printed out and stuck under my desk blotter citing Scripture that helped me get through a rough period. There were numerous drawings and doodles my now-11-year-old daughter gave me, many of which she created using my highlighters while she patiently sat in my office waiting for me to complete some task. Most precious, though, was a “get-well” card she composed for me when she was first learning to write, complete with little animal stickers she’d gotten in a Chick-fil-A kid’s meal.

Then came the photos. There were numerous shots of staff members at work and at play, and of our writers on golf courses and in restaurants, and of family and friends. There were pictures of my daughter as a baby playing with our dog Blondie, who has since died. He was a sweet, blind cocker spaniel who showed up as a stray on our front porch on Christmas Eve 1992, just two days after I had started working at this company. There was also a photo of me and my wife of only six months at the company Christmas party that same year, which happened to be a black-tie affair commemorating the company’s 20th anniversary. With a new wife, a new job and a new dog, you could say that 1992 was an eventful year in my life.

This year promises to be a significant one for me, as well. For instance, today my career heads in a new but familiar direction as I come on board as a full-time member of the WORLD staff, an opportunity that grew out of Providence and the encouragement and support of people like Joe Carter, Marvin Olasky, Lynn Vincent, and Nick Eicher.

And, yes, I did learn from my office clean-up experience and likely will not accumulate as much “stuff” in this new job — especially since I’ll be working from home and my wife won’t stand for it! But in a way, I’m glad I did have to wade through all that clutter. It helped cement in my memory where I’ve been and who all has traveled alongside me. It made me appreciate these past 15 years all the more.