My Messy Home

Did you grow up with a cleaning mamma? I remember cleaning nearly every Saturday morning as a small child, but I also remember making crafts, playing in mud, and absolutely loving my life most days-adventures. I also remember extra cleaning when guests were coming and ultimate deep cleaning when we moved every 4-5 years.

Fast forward to having five children, a busy co-ministry, and a dog the size of a pony. Maintaining a tidy home is the impossible Martha Stewart trophy I cannot seem to grasp, not even for a few moments. We recently moved into living in the community where I teach so it is common for people to just pop by who I teach or teach with, and though I love them, I dread it, until last night.

Last night one of my graduating seminary students donated a tv to my children to watch my ancient collection of dvds on (don’t judge my media choices). She and the friend who helped her (also one of my students) seemed to want to chat more so I reluctantly asked if they wanted to sit on the few cushions of the couch that weren’t covered in workbooks and folders we were sorting at the end of the school year, all with a fresh layer of dog hair. I released the dog and my little one came down from his bath (after an epic last day of school neighborhood water fight), crawled in that man’s lap and read him a story.

My graduating student kept saying how much she loved being in my house. What?! There is no way that being surrounded by toys, papers, dog hair, and a sink of dirty dishes is comforting. I have taught my students about biblical hospitality and that it has nothing to do with how clean your home is, how perfect your dinner, or prepared you are for neighbors to stop by. However, the truth is that when I teach it I’m always preaching at myself first.

Changing my mindset, not my house

I sent a thank you text after she left. She wrote back a you’re welcome and said my home was cozy. Why is it that I seem to be the only person who doesn’t view our home this way. My husband (who is far more organized than I am in general isn’t usually bothered. My children are not bothered. Why can’t I just be in my home?

So starting today I am trying to replace my self-talk. My house is not messy. It’s cozy, sometimes really, really cozy. It’s full of craft supplies, ingredients, plastic swords, thousands of legos, precious trinkets, books, and photos.

I’m reminded that my baby boy was born three days before my oldest girl graduated from college. This stage of “coziness” will be over before I can blink. Just like the Barbies and princess gowns, some day the dinosaurs who have invaded my shower will go extinct and the legos will be packed away, the swords exchanged for battles on phones and video games. It will feel like a blink. I will miss my home being cozy.

So, mammas and papas especially, but also all my other friends who are just busy and not feeling like you have gifts for hospitality, maybe your house is just cozy. Invite others in to do life with you, to be cozy together.