Room to breathe. Space to rest.

Right now I sit in a chair outside. I sit outside because inside looks like one of those tv shows about people who hoard. Every time Morgan and I conquer one room, there is a mess made by the other eight little hands that live here that is bigger than the mess we just forced into submission. Our lives seem to be one step forward and two steps back all day long.

But all this mess is not a problem. This is not a struggle, or a challenge or even anything like a real inconvenience. This is a blessing.

To have a home and to have four active, healthy children with appetites and energy is the dream of my life. I don’t resent the mess. I embrace it, and I work. I work toward having space to sit. I work toward finding a place for all the random loveliness inside every box. I hang pictures, I string beads for chandeliers, I paint walls and try to make this house into a home.

This thirty-five year old structure’s very purpose is to give us a place to be messy and real with one another. I admit I don’t mind the mess as much when the sofa and the rug are fabulous together.

I know that some day the boxes will be gone. The mess never will be. Every day of life on earth brings new opportunities to make messes and clean them up. Sometimes we clean up our own messes, sometimes we must clean up other people’s messes. But at it’s very core, life is messy because people are messy. The best we can do most of the time is look for places to clear the mess so we can sit down with the ones we love and remind ourselves to breathe and enjoy.

There may be spaghetti all over the place and more dishes than you could do in an hour, but isn’t the chandelier over the table lovely against the new wall color? Why, yes. Yes, it is.

There may be cruelty in a coworker and selfishness in your soul, but you can always clean your mess and hers by going and putting a flower on the mean lady’s desk with a note that says “Have a great day.”. I know it’s corny, but I also know it’s true.

When we focus on the mess and difficult parts of life, life often becomes overwhelming and we lose all sense of purpose. Then we see a beautiful sunset, or feel the warmth of the sun as we walk to our messy cars and our day has fulness and meaning again. I don’t know exactly why that is, but I have experienced it a million times.

So, I ignore the box of pantry items and I hang beads from the chandelier. It seems silly and shallow, but in reality the choice has great meaning. The box is temporary. The beads will be there every morning to tell me everything is looking good.

And you know, I think it is looking good. Why, yes. Yes, it is.