My brother and his wife are coming for a visit. Now I have known they were coming.
But it’s not until the last minute that I decide to clean and make a plan.
We are celebrating Christmas.
I still haven’t wrapped the presents.
It’s almost March.
I have wrapped some; but the rest still lie buried under piles of stuff in my room.
What makes us all so different?
How do some have such ordered and clean homes?
Everything is fixed and nice and neat.
Everything in its place.
( My college room mate Carol, would continually encourage me with those words)
This is not a new issue for me.
It’s years of trying to decide where is that place supposed to be?
I can cook for 50 people without batting an eyelash.
I love people stopping over spontaneously for a visit.
But I can’t get the laundry done or keep the piles from accumulating.
I have done FLY lady, keep it simple, declutter your home in however many days.
I have hired someone to clean my house hoping the gift of them coming would help with the clutter.
But it doesn’t.
The clutter continues and consumes; if I let it.
Sometimes I think we let too much clutter our minds. I become obsessed with getting the house clean.
Honestly, I become a raving lunatic.
I harp on the kids to pick up and vacuum and the rant list goes on and on.
(you can ask my kids, they will not hold back. They love to talk about me)
Now maybe I should have done that before.
But what were the options?
What would have been the sacrifice choice for the cleaner house?
Would I have them miss playing outside in the snow with their friends?
Should they give up their barn chores?
Would I give up the last few conversations with Elijah because the vacuum cleaner was more important?
We sat and read an extra chapter in our read aloud book; should cleaning have been a better choice?
These are things I ponder.
I know I can do things better.
There is always a better way.
But at what cost?
The clutter in my house should not reflect clutter in my heart.
And you know what? It doesn’t.
My heart is at peace.
My soul aches and is desperately needy.
But there is room for the Holy Spirit to be there.
I am open to God’s leading.
I breathe in His presence in my life.
There is not an absence of pain or heartache.
There is not an absence of trouble.
But there is peace. There is hope.
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him.
There is room for God to step into the chaos and create order.
This is also a season.
How I long for my house to be clean and ordered. I long for rooms without clutter.
So while it’s not perfect; there it is.
What I long for more though; is a farmhouse with it’s doors flung wide open.
It’s not perfect. But it’s real.
We’re finding our way in the imperfection to seek Jesus here.
In the grit and grime. In the middle of the laundry piles and other pressing needs.
Step over the clutter, find the way to the table.
There will be hot coffee.
I am sure a baked good, because people have not left our side on this journey.
And there will always be time.
Time to stop and sit at the farm house table, where we will meet with Jesus and the clutter won’t matter.
Where what’s on our hearts will be laid bare before the Father and we will seek his guidance.
Where we will sit with God’s word open and search for truth and direction and how to love as He first loved us.
Isn’t that what we want?
Isn’t that how it should be?
I didn’t say I was giving up Pinterest, or the desire for a cleaner house.
I will just keep plugging away, while keeping the clutter out of my heart as the first priority.
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.