You're so organized...

A few weeks ago, I had a friend over for coffee. She is expecting her first child, and thankfully she had just gotten over her morning sickness which made her nauseated to smell coffee. At some point after watching our little crew and all the chaos that is our normal moment-by-moment life, she commented that she just felt so inspired by how organized everything was. I can't exactly remember, but I think I must have sputtered out my coffee as I blurted out a laugh.

Once I had composed myself, I asked why she thought that. (And no, all the neatly labeled clear plastic boxes could not possibly be influencing her comment...) She said she thought it was neat that I had charts and check off lists posted throughout our home. I assured her they were merely decorations, something that makes me feel like one day we might be organized. :)

A long time ago I used to be organized. Before marriage and kids I had a wonderful organizational system, my Franklin Covey planner was perfectly tidy and there was never a scratch out even though I wrote in pen (I preferred white out tape), all my t-shirts were grouped by color and my DVDs were in alphabetic order. No, I am not kidding.

Fast-forward nearly 13 years of marriage and 6 kids in 11 years... plastic boxes help me contain all the various age-appropriate toys for the spectrum of ages our home shelters. There are charts posted to the wall, but I can't remember the last time I actually looked at them, much less attempted to rally the troops to follow them. I can't keep up with the socks that find themselves strewn throughout the hallway during the day, nor the shards of paper that start on the table but trickle down to the floor and out into the hall after some time spent on papercrafting. Laundry looms on the calender every Monday and Thursday, Mount Washmore, the children fold it (quite begrudgingly some most days) and put each person's clothes into a basket which disappears upstairs with the hopes of staying folded once being crammed into drawers. I have scars on the bottoms of my feet from homeless Legos inconspicuously left on the floor despite the color-sorted bins that so perfectly house the little plastic daggers building tools.

The Lord has used my desire for order and tidiness to sanctify me. Before living with a houseful of messies I didn't realize that I had elevated order and cleanliness to an idol. There were many days when I would grow angry because the children didn't put things in the right bins or even attempt to clean up after themselves. It certainly isn't wrong to desire to teach your children good habits of cleaning and picking up, but it was sin in my heart that I was willing to yell at them because they failed to. Through God's grace, He has humbled me and is showing me to balance my desire for order with a love for the messies in my home. I am still trying to teach them to be more organized, and I am thankful for the growth the Lord has granted me allowing me to be more calm as toys scatter the floor. I still totally flop (like yesterday).

My mind still thinks in charts and lists. My fingers still fly across the keyboard to create Excel spreadsheets that help me keep all my mental notes in little boxes. But most importantly, I am learning that it is more God honoring to have a gentle answer for a little child than it is to have a perfectly clean floor. I know that organizing has its place (it is really nice to know where things are) but it is more important that my children know I love them more than the plastic bins and artificial order.

I am an organized work in progress...