When You'd Rather Find the Jar of Nutella Than Clean Your House

Ever have a day where things are such a mess, you're not sure where to start? I've fed kids, tended to the dog, and packed up lunches. I've carried kids to school, wrapped up my worries, and handed them over to One who carries me. 

But instead of walking into a home of tranquility, I stumbled through the door, surveyed the mess, and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I did what any woman skilled in the ways of avoidance would do...

I snapped photos, made a collage of the mess, and decided to share it on my blog. My coping mechanisms confound even me. 

Housework is not fun or creative or thoughtful in any way. It is dutiful drudgery and it requires physical exertion and in 24 hours it will all be undone again. Because seriously, at some point over the weekend things looked straight-ish. I'm not how it goes downhill so quickly, but I think it has something to do with five people and one four-legged friend all living large in a small space.

In many ways, my home mirrors my life. {Ugh. I promised myself I would not get philosophical in this post.} In one day it can go from feeling somewhat orderly to looking downright messy. When I think of the soul-work and heart excavation required to clean up the mess, well, I'd rather just have a seat on my dilapidated sofa, grab a jar of Nutella, watch Kelly and Michael, and have another cup of coffee.

Precious friends reminded me last night that there's only one way to take a journey {or clean up a mess}: baby steps. 

I'm more of a magic wand kind of gal, wishing I could summon Mary Poppins to wiggle her nose and snap a finger while I watch the chaos swirl into place. I'm tired. And I'd rather take a walk in the park and stumble upon an enchanted carousel than get down to business.  

But since Mary Poppins isn't real and my dirty dishes are, I'll start in the kitchen, move to the laundry, reclaim the living room that my kids fashioned into 12 different forts, and maybe get to the bathrooms. Maybe. And while I labor, I'll dream of a housekeeper, a finished bonus room, a blog makeover, my very own office, and an every-blooming money tree in the backyard.

Taking one step is better than standing still. And let's face it, we're never really standing still; we always drift toward something. So today I celebrate, yes celebrate, all the baby steps in my life. Celebration can't coexist with discouragement. 

Let's laud the small victories and look for gifts of grace. You can always find them, though you may have to sort through a basketful of unmatched socks first.

What remains unfinished today will spill into tomorrow. We're only promised today anyway, so I've resolved to baby-step my way through it, dream a few dreams, set realistic goals, and let grace cover the rest.