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Mess

It's tempting to let it go. But every day, usually three times every day, we clean up the mess. Dishes in the dishwasher. Toys in the basket. Food back in the frig. Dirty clothes in the laundry. I sometimes can't believe that we will be back at the same place–sticky peach on my foot, diaper in the trash can, ketchup-stained clothes in the basket, blocks on the floor–in just a few hours. But even though it will come back, we clean it up. And a sense of order and peace descends. It gives a rhythm to our days. It tells us that chaos is not going to win.

In the more abstract areas of my life, it is even more tempting to let the mess go. To lie on the couch instead of going for a run. To sleep longer instead of spending some time reading the Bible and praying in the morning. To have that extra glass of wine at the end of a long day instead of dealing with the reasons why I feel exhausted/discouraged/ready to tune out. It's tempting to let it go. But, every day, and day after day after day, I'm going to try to clean up the mess.

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