Hi, my name is Mom and I clean up messes. All the messes. All day long.
Sometimes I handle the auto-loop of mess okay, letting the mess be part of the memories. Other times (most times) the mess feels like it is suffocating me. Not that things are so messy, but rather that I can never quite get a handle on it because it never stops coming. With so much stuff crammed into this space: toys, dishes, clothes, diapers, toothpaste tubes, paperwork, backpacks, uniforms and art supplies it is no wonder my relationship to cleaning is one step forward six steps back. Six people+1 dog= unending pick up. Let's take just toothpaste. We have 12 tubes of toothpaste in our house. TWELVE!!! True story. Based on the number of random locations I have identified stray toothpaste outside of its intended tube, I can only surmise my children are on a mission to brush their teeth in every square inch of our house. They are teeth brushing adventurists. Their motto: Leave no place untoothpasted! Including the toothpaste my list of auto-loop duties goes on and on ad nauseam.
So many things pile up during the course of a day. All messes remaining at the end of the day, or week, or month are essentially my responsibility. My husband helps and it is much appreciated but the implication is, he is helping me with my duties. Asking for help with my stuff is hard. So much pride to swallow in the asking. Even if I try to practice good parenting and delegate the cleaning up of the mess to the children, it is still my delegation duty. Seriously though, how often does the delegation of chores actually create more mess for me somehow, some way? You are correct, every single time. Full disclosure, this is mostly in part to my unwillingness to let things be done in any way other than my own. I can own that and might confess further in some other post.
Obviously I am currently in a season of poor mess management. I am in need of some strategic de-cluttering and organization. Perhaps one of those zen your house in ten steps books. There is such a book I think. My house may not appear disastrous to the naked eye, but the heart of my house feels crowded, messy and stuffy. My heart issue isn't the lack of organization, it is my spirit behind all the housework. My house and the continuous flow of work it requires feels like it is sucking the air right out of my lungs. As if I am always trying to catch my breath. Trying to stay on top of the one next mess experience tells me is coming. Maybe not now, but a new mess will appear for certain in the next 8.2 seconds and it will probably come before I am finished cleaning up the current mess. I am just waiting to see how big next said mess will be. Already wondering how much work it will require of me.
Even if I stay mindful and in the moment while I am cleaning I find myself resentful of that moment. I resent cleaning in the now, because I know that in the near future it will all be for naught. I find myself holding my breath while I am cleaning, just waiting for all my hard work to be undone. Holding my breath, waiting for the next little person to tornado through and wreck any forward progress. This is exhausting. Always holding ones breath is a painful way to live.
And then in the midst of all the mess God breathes a word into my suffocating heart. He speaks it through a blonde haired, blue eyed baby girl.
To my biggest girl I said, "Come on." I sigh tired- not even bothering to feign enthusiasm, "Let's go clean up our mess." She replied, "Momma," looking at me and then the spread of toys before us on the lawn, "It was our fun."
Oh, my heart. I swear my little people's words are how God reels me back to Him. Over and over again He uses my children to point me again to Truth.
The truth is, my baby girl is so right. Each mess before me is proof of life. The mess is their fun. Their learning, growing, exploring, failing, trying and experimenting is evidenced in mess. The potential for more new mess is the blessed hope for life in the future. To disdain the mess is to take issue with life being lived. How did I manage to forget this? Better question, how can remember this?
So I pray, let me never take their mess for granted, because a life being truly lived is super messy.
Thus it follows, mess is gift.
A mess is only bad if I choose to see it and call it as such. Words have so much power. They define all the things. My perspective can often be significantly shifted with a single word. When I look around and see my responsibilities as an unending cycle of cleaning, picking up and washing I will eventually be sucked dry. Always living in anticipation of, bracing myself for the next hard thing or mess to clean up is a mind set of fear and drudgery. It sucks my hope and blinds me to the beautiful gift in my now.
I can't breathe without hope. I can't fight for breath without a purpose for living. No wonder when I see the mess before lives I feel suffocated. Failure to see the life being lived means I have taken myself out of the beauty in my now and forgotten my reason for cleaning. I am so busy thinking about all that is to come and how exhausted I will be fixing it that I have moved away from my established purpose in choosing to raise these little lives. In short, my focus is on my own inconveniences, not the people before me.
So I must remind myself. Over and over again.
My purpose in accepting this gift of motherhood I have been generously given,
is to actively participate in the cycle of life.
By creating life,
nurturing life,
watching life grow,
pointing those little lives to True Life and
Lord willing, to help my Littles someday make life more beautiful for the rest of the world because the light of Jesus is shining bright within them.
My purpose is not a clean house, clean laundry, organized meal plan, vacuumed floor, scrubbed toilet or empty dishwasher. Those might be ways of showing love, but they are not the sum total of my existence. My purpose is far greater. My purpose is love. And in my loving, give glory to God.
When I remind myself of my intended purpose in motherhood, those messes, the cleaning, the auto loop of monotonous chores all fade into the background. Yes, they are still there. I cannot stop doing all. the. things but they are not as heavy. Because they are no longer the why to my existence. Instead the chores are evidence of my very existence and glorious proof of the family I have been given. All of my chores, duties and household responsibilities, those things are the pulse of my family, not the beating heart. I firmly believe that my God given role as a mother is to help sustain life. It isn't glorious, glamorous or easy. But it is noble and it is manageable if I take it one moment at a time with the proper perspective.
When I think perspective in motherhood, I think of the verse in Galatians, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." 6:9. I think it is so easy to forget what the "good" is I am doing. I often forget that my consistent efforts and strategic adherence to routine is all for a bigger reason. It seems like a trick I need to master, this staying in the moment, while simultaneously remembering each moment is serving a purpose for the future. A future where the harvest will be good. Tell me, do you believe this too?
I don't know what your intended purpose is in raising children, or living your life. If you don't have children now, I know you still have your own version of auto-loop. I can remember that far back into my own life. What I do know is, without a defined purpose that sings your heart song, life gets exhausting and roots of bitterness grow. But it seems having a declared purpose is only the first step. For me, remembering it, intentionally keeping my purpose in the forefront of my mind has proven to be the hardest part. See, I am naturally inclined to see messes and resent them. Messes intrinsically frustrate me. This is probably why motherhood in general has proven so difficult for me. I daily fight to stay purpose focused. Daily it seems I loose the battle. Yet, I am refusing to give up the fight.
If a life lived well is measured by the size of messes produced, my kids are doing life fantastically. Their existence is so messy. It is marked by big play, intentional exploration and unbridled excitement. Regardless of how their messes often make me feel, I do believe in my heart this is how childhood should be. Kids create the biggest need for cleaning supplies because they HAVE THE MOST FUN. Remembering this truth is letting clarity and purpose speak louder than my frustrations and exhaustion. Fun is more work for the parent, yes. Worth it? Double yes. (Usually.)
There will be plenty of time for my children to see the mess in life, their own messes and the messes of the world. They won't escape the reality of the big mess of humanity. Until then maybe I can try to see the messes through their eyes, untainted by the weariness of routine. Maybe I can look beyond the mess to see the fun. Maybe instead of a weary sigh I can take a deep cleansing breath, smile and say, "My babies, let us go clean up our fun." With a one word shift I can change so much. Cleaning up fun just sounds better. It literally sounds more fun.
Yes, I might be living on auto-loop. Auto-loop is a part of life I can't make disappear. But I can change how I see the loop. I can choose to see an auto-loop of Life happening. Little lives are being lived in my presence. I can receive the mess as gift with open hands or frustrated fists. For their sake and mine I choose open hands. For my bigger purpose I will always try to show up, be present in the mess and ready to clean up some fun, again and again and again. It is with such a spirit I can honestly hope their messes never end.
You can bet though I am training them to be expert cleaner uppers of their own fun as well. Especially their toothpaste. Seriously! What is that anyhow? Who knew brushing teeth could be an exciting adventure?! Only a child, that is who. I suppose I should be asking, can this mom find a way to make a fun adventure out of cleaning it up? The answer is to be determined.
Just a note...
I wrote the above words from a place of relative emotional stability. Right now I am seeing life through mostly clear lenses. Click here to see this is not always the case. I have been in dark places before, seeing things only through the foggy lens of depression. In those times no new word, perspective shift or reality check could help me "snap out of it" and help me embrace the monotony of my responsibilities. Life felt overwhelming, no matter the words I used. If you are in a dark place, you are not alone. I cannot wish or think away my depression. For me, it isn't that kind of enemy. I believe depression is best fought openly with people at my side. So tell someone? Please. Together you can find the light again.
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