The Author of Peace

I know I've shared (maybe, a million times) that I'm not the most excellent housekeeper.  Which is odd because I feel like I do spend a lot of time cleaning.  I'd like to think of this as just some strange phenomenon, perplexing but having nothing to do with lack of skill.

Whatever it is, I just can't get a handle on it.  I work one room while the rest are being systematically destroyed.  We did a thorough spring cleaning and I swear, it wasn't two weeks before the results were undetectable.

When we moved into this house a year ago, it seemed plenty big enough.  Now, not so much. And I haven't done a ton of shopping. It's weird.

When I close my eyes to picture a home that's a sanctuary, I envision white, fluffy carpet, white couches, vast space and a spot for everything - nothing left out.  This is a far cry from the clutter that actually 'decorates' my home.  I like the idea that organized clutter comes with creativity, although I'm not sure that my clutter is actually all that organized.

I read something this morning that suggested perhaps outward clutter is a subconscious means of isolating - keeping others away.  I can see this, though I'd never thought of it.  I can tend to isolate. I like my own space, time alone and definitely am not a woman who enjoys surprise visits.  My mom was also this way.
She would want to cancel visits with friends, worrying the house was too messy, even though it really wasn't.

So, while I'm not a hoarder by any means, I do have my fair share of unwanted mess.  That I can't quite figure out what to do with. And last week a husband's friend stopped in to drop something off for me. I met him in the driveway.  He asked if I wanted our kids to play together.  I told him, Sure, send yours in.  Go run some errands. Well, that's not what he meant. And I kind of suspected that.  So, I reluctantly let him in, warning him that the house was disastrous.  He asked me why.  In that blunt, male way.  So, I stammered out the true excuse that I use my morning to work on homework and blog, that the kids sort of run a bit wild during that time.

 But maybe, I need a better system. Maybe, I need to think a little more about keeping a home that's inviting, that can handle a surprise visit.  Suggestions?

Solitude is good.  Time spent quietly in prayer and worship and introspection is necessary. But if there's the chance, that without knowing it, I've settled into habits that not only allow me to keep people away but also block my mind from really, truly experiencing that emptiness required for God to enter, then I need to at least look at it.

Source: jesustotheworld.tumblr.com via Nicole on Pinterest

It's not necessarily fun to look at stuff like this.  It may, however, be necessary.

I'm okay with that

"The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages." - Virginia Woolf




House cleaners came yesterday. Only because we rent and the owners are coming today.  And my housekeeping skills lack a bit.

I'm a stay at home mom. I home school.  But Molly Homemaker I am not.  And I was so grateful that we were able to hire these women for this one day but as soon as they arrived, the tapes started playing.  Those tapes saying that I'm not good enough. That there's no reason I should hire help when I'm a stay at home mom. That the house cleaners were judging me because the kid's rooms were so messy.  And on and on and on. And I had the yuckiest feeling. Until I got mad.  And told the voices to shut up.  But it bothered me enough to prompt me to come here today and write it out.  My indignation.

Indignation at the pressure that I've felt to be superwoman.  

The myth of superwoman has hung on long after the media stopped airing fantasy-based commercials about working women's lives: Here she comes, home from the office after 12 hours of high-powered negotiations in the executive suite. Her designer suit is still fresh and unwrinkled, her face radiant and unlined as she opens her arms to greet her two adorable children—and sends a seductive glance toward her handsome husband, beaming proudly in the background. Watch her as, with one smooth motion, she slips off her jacket and into a dainty apron as she glides toward the spotless kitchen to create a three-course meal for her beloved family. After dinner she will check the children's French homework and read them a chapter of Jane Eyre before tucking the little cherubs into bed. While her husband watches the late-night news, she will disappear into the den to make an overseas call that will clinch a multinational deal for her company.
-Deborah J. Swiss

Yes, I'm a stay at home mom.  Yes, I home school. No, I do not love to cook and clean. (Gasp).  Now, I do those things. Because I feel that it creates a healthy and loving environment for my family. I believe that as a stay-at-home mom, my job is to keep the house up.  But....

First, I am a child of God.  Then, I am a wife and mother.  Then, I am a daughter, a writer, a student, an artist, any number of things.  And I got to thinking in that discomfort yesterday.  If I simply woke up every day, taught the children and then cleaned until bedtime....wouldn't that constitute as a waste of my talents?  

If we confine ourselves to one life role, no matter how pleasant it seems at first, we starve emotionally and psychologically. We need a change and balance in our daily lives. We need sometimes to dress up and sometimes to lie around in torn jeans. . . . Even a grimy factory can afford some relief from a grimy kitchen and vice versa.” – Faye J. Crosby

I think it would.  So, I gave myself a break.  And I'm going to continue to do so.  Because we don't live in a pig sty.  It's just that when I clean, things don't look quite so shiny.  I don't fold the toilet paper into a little triangle. There are streaks on my windows after I clean them. And yeah, it had been a while since I'd cleaned the ceiling fans.  I came to the conclusion that housecleaning is an art.  No, I don't want to learn it.  But I appreciate it as such, and so every once in a while, I'm willing to pay for it.  And, this is not a sin.  It doesn't make me a bad mother, or a bad wife or a hypocrite.  It just makes me a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom, with an averagely cleaned house most of the time.  I'm okay with that.  

And just as an end note.  The kids promptly did their best to destroy the place, moments after the house cleaners left.  I think the super clean made them nervous. 

submitting at A Pause on the Path