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| ©Darrell Wyatt |
I was blessed with many things, but organizational skills was not one of them. I am not organized in any aspect of my life - housework, finances, scheduling - not one area. I used to try. I would buy cute little planners to carry in my purse. I'd make chore charts and bill charts. Nothing worked. I used to purposely leave my vacuum cleaner out so that if someone happened to stop by, they would just think that I was in the middle of some heavy cleaning. Not anymore. I have finally accepted the fact that I may never be as organized as I wish I could be.
As a result of my lack of organizational skills, my life and my house are most often in a state of disarray. There are always piles of dishes to be washed and piles of laundry to be folded. My shelves are dusty. My bed is rarely made. If I know someone is coming to visit, I am overcome with anxiety at the overwhelming task that lies before me to make sure that the house is in presentable condition. If company will be staying over night, starting a couple of days before they arrive, I morph from just plain "mom" into a three headed, fire-breathing monster, cracking my whip and snapping at the kids to "keep moving!". It's really not a pretty sight.
I have often dreamed of having someone just pop in to visit and not being embarrassed to open the front door. Maybe I could even take them through the house and into the kitchen where we would sit at my shiny counter on the squeaky clean bar stools and sip a foaming cup of hot chocolate and just talk. Or maybe, just maybe, I could bring warm, chewy cookies as soccer treats because I remembered that I was in charge of treats the day before the game instead of five minutes before. And then I look around my house at the piles and the toys and the shoes strewn about, and I remember - oh yeah...that's not me.
This morning I read:
...therefore this life became a probationary state; a time to prepare to meet God; (Alma 12:24)
For some reason, that made me feel a little bit better about myself. It didn't say "...therefore, this life became a probationary state; a time to make sure that the ironing is done and the floor is mopped and the dishes all match". No. I am here to learn and to teach my kids to prepare to meet God. Yes, I know that "cleanliness is next to Godliness". But I prefer to think of it as "cleanliness is next after Godliness". If I am spending time doing the things that really matter - family prayer, teaching my kids to grow closer to their Savior by attending church meetings and having Family Home Evening, I'm pretty sure Heavenly Father will look past the fingerprints on the refrigerator door. As long as I have done my best to get my kids back to Him, I really don't think he'll care that their shirt is stained or their hair mussed up. He will be pleased with my efforts, and he will say to them, mismatched socks and all, "Welcome Home".
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