Pardon the Mess

Pardon the Mess: I’m living here.

***excerpts from my diary***

One of my constant frustrations is mess. I feel like there is always mess.

Mess in the laundry room.

Mess in the kitchen.

Mess in the bedrooms…the house just doesn’t stay clean.

 

Many tears have been shed while sitting on my living room floor looking around at the dizzying piles…

…piles of clothes, books, and dishes that somehow turn into mountains around me. Here I sit in the valley of ‘pity party’ surrounded by a daunting dominion of dust. I feel helpless.

 

It doesn’t take long before I melodramatically begin to recite, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil;

and,

…no instagram posts

…no unexpected visitors

…no perfect moms that make no mistakes

And I will absolutely not fear…

…the perfect version of myself that exists only in my head.”

 

Truth. I must come back to the truth instead of the lies that fly through my head. The truth is powerful. The truth is essential. And the truth is that I love my house.

It is a nest of comfort.

It is a playpen of laughter.

It is a sanctuary of safety.

It is a photo album of memories.

It is a library of learning.

 

The problem always comes when I compare my home or my life to other people’s playpens and photo albums. Order and cleanliness are important and their place in my house is necessary but I have come to find that mess has a place too.

 

Mess shows progress.

Mess shows learning.

Mess shows life lived.

 

My kitchen is a mess when my daughter is learning to cook. My living room is a mess when my family is growing in hospitality. My laundry room is a mess when my son is developing his skills as an artist.

 

So today…and tomorrow…and the next day…I will choose to let go of comparison and all of the perfect images and make the choice to grab ahold of truth instead. Then, and only then, I will be given the freedom to jump knee deep into the mess of a life lived together.

There will always be time to clean tomorrow.

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