Most anyone who knows me could tell you that I am not a "tidy" person. My whole life my parents tried in vain to keep some sense of order and neatness in my room. Bribes, rewards, punishments...I could last maybe 2 days and then it was a lost cause. This of course transferred into my married life (lucky Dave). My house is generally pretty neat and tidy, especially if I know people are coming over, but I'm just never going to be the type of person who has a spotless house. It's not me. Not my personality, and not my goal in life(sorry Mom). That being said, I do have a cleaning/laundry schedule that I follow pretty religiously, and I do my best to clean up toys, books and clothes that my son feels the need to throw around the house, throughout the day.
I love when my house is clean. I'm proud of how it looks and I want people to see that when they come over; and although it is embarrassing when someone happens upon my doorstep and the dishes are overflowing in the sink and the floor is barely visible under the carpet of toys and things, I would never turn someone away because of my messy dwelling.
If you have read previous blogs you would know that our house is kind of a construction zone as we try to remodel and renovate. It's a slow process and often I feel it won't ever be completed. However, this summer is our time to renovate the outside of our home. This means digging out our boardwalk in the backyard, moving our shed, building a new fence, and landscaping/flower gardens throughout the yard. Big job. We decided to tackle it this weekend. Oh the mess...and dirt...and dirty children! After I had finished raking the front yard last night, I decided that we needed to trim the big tree out front thus making even more of a mess, but looking much better in the end. I'm headed out there again to rake and pile and bag and I can't help but think that my life is filled with "mess". Everywhere I look right now I see piles of brush, clothes, toys and cheerios. I get that I have kids and we have goals for our home, but,
When does it stop?
Does it stop?
Should it stop?
I don't think so. "Mess" is necessary!
Without piles and clutter and garbage and smudges and debris, how do we ever appreciate clean and tidy and neat and polished?
Without thunder and lightning and rain, how do we appreciate green and fresh smells and rainbows?
Without arguments and tempers and anger, how do we appreciate apologies and love and kindness?
Without death and fear and pain and hell, how do we appreciate heaven and grace and life and Jesus?

If everything was "clean" in our life, how would we know what to do with messy? I like this logic. It makes me feel like I'm allowed to be...maybe even supposed to be a mess.