I came home the other day and my kitchen counter was not as I left it. When I left I recall the coffee pot, basket of kitchen tools and our memory verse of the week laying there. When I came home the aforementioned were there…..along with a cooler, my husband’s belt, a hat and pair of my son’s socks. (Not even sure where the socks came from now that I mention it)
Deep breath……a year ago I’d have been totally pissed (being honest) that my counter that I’d cleaned before I left was now cluttered. I had to put things away before I could start dinner and I’d rant about how I was the only one who ever did anything around here and the only one who cared. Let’s examine my former self’s rant a bit closer
The Pre-Dinner Clean Up
I have a small kitchen. Actually I have a small house. Actually I’m 5’ 9” and I can touch my ceiling with out extending my hand above my head. That said, I have three counter top areas in the kitchen – one on either side of the stove and one by the refrigerator. Only one section was cluttered. Therefore technically I did not need to remove said clutter before I made dinner. I only needed to ignore the clutter temporarily. At some point it needed tended to but not the moment I walked in the door.
Slave of the Home
Really? Oh how many of us say “I’m the only one who ever does anything around here” Get that hand up girlfriend – I know you’ve said it too! There can be some truth to this if you look at it from the world’s perspective or as I did – with a chip on my shoulder so to speak. Now I look at my home as my domain. It is where I make a difference, where my work, although sometimes routine and mundane, will have lasting impact on my child(ren).
Alone in My Cares
I am the only one who cares that the counter has stuff on it. My 15 month old son doesn’t care. He cares that daddy is on the floor playing with him. He cares that mommy is home and ready to snuggle with him. My husband doesn’t care. He loves me even if there’s stuff on the counter. He cares about spending quality time with our son and with me. He does not judge me and my performance as a wife and mother based on how quickly I get the counter cleaned off when I get home from work. And I thank God for that!
Certainly, I ask for some help from time to time. I try to lovingly point out that it would be helpful if the cooler would be put where it belongs and not on the counter. And for a short time my husband will remember and he’ll honor what I’ve asked but then he gets busy and forgets. The burdens and passions on his heart far out way the cooler, the socks or the hat or the belt. He truly does not see them laying there. He, hopefully, sees our home as a place of refuge from the battles of the day. A place to take cover, regroup and recharge.
That is what I want; a home that is a place of refuge, a place of love and nourishment. I am not excusing filth or unsanitary living conditions but I am excusing the temporary clutter of life. I thank the Lord that he has opened my blind eyes to see what really matters.
Until Next Time,
This post shared at Teach Me Tuesdays