Signs of Life

I’m coming to view the messes in life differently.  I have to constantly remind myself that the crushed cheerio on the ground isn’t just a mess, it’s a sign of life.  I’m learning to see that if my house was clean all the time with every pillow in its place, the floor neatly vacuumed and mopped, the clothes always folded promptly upon removal from the dryer, that if those were things valued above all else, my life would look very different.  What if I chose to clean every evening my husband came home from work instead of spending time with him on the couch, doing nothing except enjoying him?  My house might look great, but my marriage on the other hand…  And what if instead of laughing at my daughter’s mess while eating, I insisted upon cleaning up after every single out of place morsel of food hit the ground?  She changes so rapidly- how much I would miss.  I don’t think I’ve ever considered myself a “neat-freak,” but I do prefer cleanliness: clothes in the hamper not on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink rather than left on the table, etc.  How much of that though is wrapped up in my need/desire to be in control?  Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great to be tidy and far from sinful 🙂 I just wonder if because there are so many areas of life that I cannot control, I cling and obsess over the things I can.  Just a thought…

But more on that later.  As I already said, I am enjoying seeing everyday messes as our signs of life- proof of a family trying their best in the world, getting it right some of the time, but many times not, living and loving each other.  Here are just a few areas that I’ve recently learned to view differently:

~the fact that many of my dishes that were wedding presents, especially my bowls, have chips on the sides probably due to the fact that the number of times we moved is the same number of years we’ve been married

~cheerios on the floor and underneath the furniture, both broken and intact

~spilled milk (no use crying over it, right?)

~theological books left in various places of the house

~dirty diapers (mercy, Lord)

~hair gel and toothpaste left on my bathroom counter almost daily

~the remaining, scattered dead needles of the Christmas tree we finally got rid of on Tuesday (just in time for life group :))

~tiny hand and nose prints on my front windows

~toilet paper that has been mysteriously unraveled in the bathroom while my back was turned

~the aftermath surrounding the toy box after Hurricane Josephine has blown threw

May my home always have just a few crumbs, a few smudges, and something out of place.



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