Sunday, September 23, 2012

I Told You So

I have always been rather anal and somewhat obsessive, particular about my things.
I am a firm believer that there is a place for everything and
everything should be in its place.
It was bad.
I couldn't go to sleep with dishes in the sink,
couldn't relax in front of the telly if there was laundry to fold,
wouldn't leave for work without my bed made.
For heaven's sake, my clothes are sorted in my closet first by season, then by color. Baker's and Brian's, too.
You can ask my husband; on second thought, please do not ask.
His honesty would not bode well for me.
At all.

In addition to keeping my house neat, I am also a perfectionist.
And not in just one area of my life.

As a child, my mom always reminded me that a
job worth doing is a job worth doing well.
A lot of things my mom told me went in one ear and out the other.
I'm sorry, Mom.
Not this one, no sir.
This mantra haunts me.
I strive for perfection.
As a Christian, as a wife, as a mother, as a sister,
as a friend, as a teacher,
as a living, breathing, walking human.
As a dishwasher, laundry-folder, ironer, vacuumer, Swiffer-er.
You get the picture.
This idea of perfectionism is exhausting.
Was exhausting.

I'm giving you the green light.
Get ready for it.
Open wide, prep your mouth, grab your megaphone, and go!
But go easy, please.
Ok, you can say it.


Everyone said, once you have a baby, your priorities will change.
Dishes in the sink won't matter.
Socks can be picked out of the clean clothes
(or worn dirty if the clothes are still lying in the hamper).
White shirts can be hung with the browns.
The baby bomb that has detonated in our house can leave its remnants on the living room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen floors.
Dust can take up residence on our furniture. Shoot, dust can invite its neighbors, friends, and families over. I'll even throw the welcoming party.

Because if there are dishes in the sink, laundry on the bed,
clothes hung haphazardly, and dust lingering, its likely because
the loves of my life have received my love and my attention.
So while the bathroom needs to be cleaned, Baker has been read to, rocked,
sang with, and snuggled close.
And my favorite Bell boy took his best girl on a date yesterday. We came home to a mess, but the time we spent together was so precious, and much more special than a clean house.

I have a verse from Colossians as the signature of my email. It reads, "Whatever you do, work at it with all of your heart, as if working for the Lord, not for men."

God has called me to be a light in this world. I am breaking the chains of perfectionism, and striving to be the Christian, wife, mother, sister, friend, and teacher that Christ has called me to be.
Whew, that feels good!

So, if the blog doesn't get updated for a few days, or our house is hidden among blades of grass begging to be cut, smile.
Smile because we are doing life, and having a dang good time doing it.

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