This post isn't about my own parenting nor is it about being tired at all. This one is about my dad who passed away 11 years ago this month.
It was 1998 and it was one of those phone calls you never want to get from your parent. "If anything happens to me, I want cremation." My head was buzzing as I was thinking to myself, "WHAT???? Where did this come from?" So, I asked my dad to jump back a few steps and asked what was going on. At that point, he'd been urinating blood for a month and had not been to see the doctor, nor had he mentioned it to my step mom. My dad loved his wife very much and didn't want her worrying. I explained that he needed to let her know what was going on and he needed to get in to see a doctor. He said he understood, but what was very important was that he wanted me to understand that he wanted cremation if anything happened to him.
I am convinced that people, much like animals, know when their time is nearing the end. Perhaps its how your body feels to you. For a believer in Christ, it could be that there is an overwhelming presence of a mass of angels surrounding you every day, and they increase in number as your end date draws near, or an overwhelming sense of peace - knowing you are going Home. I know this, my dad was keenly aware during this phone conversation that his life as I knew it was coming to an end, and he was determined to make sure that at least one of his children knew how he wanted things to move forward after he was gone.
The final diagnosis was stage 4 cancer and he was given a year to live. My dad, in his infinite wisdom, decided he was going to continue living his life to the fullest and enjoy every moment he had left. We already knew that there was nothing that could be done to save him and instead, through hospice care, he was treated to stay comfortable. I know because I was one of the two people assisting him in his last days and was blessed to be there the morning he took his last breath.
I can tell you with all certainty the Jesus saw my dad into heaven on that Sunday morning in May. The morning started like most of the rest of the week had, with Norma and me taking turns watching him and giving him morphine shots for comfort as needed. Hospice care had been to the house on Friday and after looking my father over, suggested that we each say our good-byes as they expected Friday would be the day he would depart. I am not sure I can describe what it is like to sit in front of your parent who is sick with cancer and emaciated to the point that you no longer recognize them, and tell them it is okay to go. I am not sure I can explain the difficulty with which you fight to hold back tears of sadness while trying to encouragingly say "Go, be with Jesus," however I somehow managed to say those very things to this man, my father, whom I truly respected, although not given many reasons to.
In his former life, he was not the world's best father to us (he simply was never there - or was drunk and sleeping when he was), or husband to my mom, whom he eventually left to marry a woman he knew from high school. Now in my 40's, I want to say I understand it more, although it would be a lie. What I do understand about it is that my parents were not in love with one another when they married, nor did they understand what the commitment of "Until death do us part" meant. To say they should never have been together would somehow be saying that my brother, sister and I should not have been born. God has His reasons for everything, and had my mom and dad not married, the three of us would not be here, nor would any of our children, and I know for a fact that there are reasons each of us are here. What I can tell you is that my dad had incredible wisdom (wisdom through failure is still wisdom), and while I didn't know him growing up, I learned to listen to him as a young adult, and he was always the one I went to for advice. I can tell you that my dad was a man who felt deep regrets over his past mistakes which resulted in a penned letter to my mother.
Not long after receiving his diagnosis of terminal cancer, he gave his life back to Christ, and followed him faithfully into Heaven. I believe that were it not for his faith and rededication to the Lord, admitting his failures would never have happened, and seeking forgiveness would have been the last thing on his mind. Matthew 6:14 states "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you." And so by writing this letter to my mom, he was doing what he knew to be right in the eyes of God. He was seeking forgiveness from one of the people he had hurt. Within this letter was a heartfelt, and God lead apology for every misfortune he ever brought upon her life - for not being a good husband, father, provider, etc. Within this letter he sought forgiveness for his past wrongs. Forgiveness is the glue that holds us together in the family of God - not just seeking it, but giving it as well. I cannot imagine it was easy for him to put all of that into a letter he would not just write and throw away, but that he would write and send to the woman he had so wronged. The woman who bore the burden of raising three kids alone during a time when single parenting was not as widely spread as it is today. I have so much respect for my father for listening to God's word
My father was an incredible trumpet player and had cut two albums in his life that were distributed mostly amongst family and friends. We thought he would like to pass into Heaven listening to his music, so in the background was the sound of my father's horn playing - sounds of my youth circling around me. It was hard to look at this figure lying in the bed and remember the handsome 6'3 man that I knew as my father. I barely recognized the figure lying under the bed sheet as I held his hand which felt like skeleton under feather like skin, and I found myself at a loss for words. I do remember telling him that Jesus was waiting for him and that it was okay for him to leave. I reassured him that I would see him again one day and that was about all I was able to say. I sat holding his hand for many minutes telling myself I would not cry in front of him. When I was done, I left the room allowing my step-mom to enter and say her good-byes as I retreated to the guest room to silently cry on my own.
Friday crawled by slowly with us administering morphine shots every 3 hours or so and with members of his church there to help support us through prayer and genuine Christ-like love. Dad's skin was grey and his breathing was labored, however for some reason he continued to remain with us. His color was better on Saturday as we began another day of watching and waiting for the inevitable to come that again managed to escape for another day. That Sunday morning I could see that the stress of caring for the man she loved was wearing on Norma and so I suggested she leave the house for a little while. If nothing else, I felt she needed some fresh air. She did not want to be away from him, but admitted she had not been to the post office in a while and decided she would just run up to check the mail. To this day I am amazed at the way God works in our lives and that he truly knows what we need and when we need it.
Norma returned from the post office with an excitement in her I had not seen all week. Unbeknownst to her, six weeks earlier my father had ordered a CD through the mail - Jackie Gleason's Songs for Lovers - and it happened to arrive that morning in the mail. She and my father loved Jackie Gleason's music. She put the CD on and sat next to my dad and held his hand. She sat quietly looking at him stroking his hair in a very loving way and I truly felt like perhaps I should give her some privacy to pour her love and affection on my father. I stepped out of the room for what I believe was only a few short minutes and she called me back in stating that it looked as if he needed another shot of morphine. As I quickly began filling the syringe, my dad took his last breath and very peacefully left the room. The presence of Christ was so heavy in the room you could smell his sweetness.
As Norma and I sat and cried together for many minutes, she told me that she had not said good-bye to him on Friday. She told me she just could not do it. She didn't want to say good-bye. My father loved her very much and when he learned of his terminal illness, all he worried about was his wife and would she be okay. Who would take care of her? He needed to know that she was going to be okay and he needed to hear it from her. That morning when I left the room, she said she held his hand and told him it was okay for him to leave. She told him that she would be okay and that if he wanted to go and be with the Lord, to please not worry about her and to go. She told him she loved him and she kissed his face. She told me he squeezed her hand, and it was within minutes that he took his last breath and was gone from this world.
As I recall the memory of that day with tears in my eyes yet again, I am filled with a peace that I can say with all confidence comes from the knowledge that my father is in Heaven with Jesus. Christ was in the room the day my father passed away and He was there to take him home where I will see him again one day.
John 14:1-3 says "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
On the Topic of Marriage
It does seem amazing that at the ages of 7 and 5 my kids would have any interest in marriage. I cannot explain where this interest comes from. Is it movies they watch? Friends they hear talking about it? I have no clue because I certainly don't sit around talking about marriage. I don't even talk to them about the idea of having a steady "boy-friend" (dating?), for lack of a better term. I don't date so the only men my kids ever see me interacting with are either family members, my friends' husbands when they come to visit us, or various brothers at church. How and where the topic of marriage entered their heads is a complete and total mystery to me. Of course, about half of the conversations my kids want to have with me remain a mystery as to how the topics got into their little heads to begin with.
Being 5, my daughter enjoys all the Disney movies that feature "Princess This or That" who, amazingly enough, always seems to be in a single parent family. I don't think that ever really sank in for me until just now as I am writing this and I haven't decided if that is a good thing for us single parents, or a bad one. Perhaps with a little more thought it can have a page all its own. At the moment, however, that is off topic. Have you ever noticed that "Princess This or That" is always trying to find a way to leave her current "reality show" and find her "Prince So and So" to run off an live "happily ever after" with? If I were to read in to that, I would think there was some kind of subliminal statement Disney was making however as you may know by now, I am a tired single mom and I don't have time to entertain that thought at the moment. So, now we have "Single-Parent King or Queen", "Princess This or That" and "Prince So-and-So" on the scene after an imaginary wedding that we never see, and my kids questioning me about whom they can marry.
It was one of those very innocent statements that you hear your child make that is completely off any topic you have been discussing as you are driving down the road. My daughter stated, rather matter of factly that she loved her brother and "When I grow up and become a Mommy I will marry you Stephen!" The Single-Parent Queen of this household quickly let her know that first of all, she needed to get married before she became a Mommy, and secondly she could not marry her own brother. "Why not, Mom?" (insert a bewildered look here) Isn't it amazing how a simple answer from a parent always results in another question from an inquisitive little mind? "Well, because he is your brother and you can't marry your brother." Lucky for me, she accepted the answer that time. She then told me she wanted to marry Daddy and her brother could marry me. Once again, I explained she could not marry Daddy because he was Daddy. I then proceeded to lay down the "marriage rules":
1) You can't marry your brother or Daddy (or sister or Mommy) because they are family;
2) You have to be married before you become a mommy or daddy;
3) You should marry someone who loves Jesus and treats you right; and
4) Make sure the person you marry is honest and does not tell lies.
Thank goodness neither one of them questioned me on what treating them right meant. I am sure in their mind it would be a person who bought them an ice cream cone and in that case, any of you reading this would be able to marry my kids if you met the qualifications as set forth above..
So, now that we have the "marriage rules" established there is a little quiet in the back of the car, I can see the wheels turning on my daughter's face. A minute goes by and she asks, "Mommy, does Randy know Jesus?" If she could see my face, she would see that I am rolling my eyes as Randy is an adult friend of mine from church who is already married and I know where the conversation is headed. "Honey, you can't marry Randy. Randy is already married. You can't marry someone who is already married." I know… more rules!!!! I didn't even approach the age difference at this time.
So, that is how we have established some rules around marriage in our home. The topic comes up from time to time as to whom they think they will marry. It generally comes up out of the blue. I find myself wondering if they do this on purpose trying to catch me off guard and see if I will lax on the rules because my daughter has commented on several ocassions since that she wants to marry Randy. Every time she does, I remind her that he is already married and you can't marry someone who is already married (Rule #5). Thankfully, Randy has backed me up on this and has had a discussion with her as well about how they can be friends, but she should marry someone her own age. HAHA
So, this brings us up to the most recent conversation on marriage which occurred this morning over breakfast. Out of the blue my son asks me, "Mommy, do Uncle Todd, Auntie and the cousins in Sacramento all know Jesus?" I am assuming his stating where they live was important because I MUST have another brother somewhere whom he has never met and therefore there would be other cousins he does not know. He needed to make sure I was aware of which set of cousins he was referring to so I did not confuse it with the cousins that don't exist. I replied to his question, "Yes, they do know Jesus." "Oh good, " he replies. Mommy, I want to marry my Melissa." If you haven't figured it out already, Meliss is his cousin.
I can see we need to add to the marriage rules again. Father in Heaven, help me!!!
"Train up a child in the way he should go and in the end he will not depart from it." - Proverbs 22:
"Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord." - Ephesians 6:4
Being 5, my daughter enjoys all the Disney movies that feature "Princess This or That" who, amazingly enough, always seems to be in a single parent family. I don't think that ever really sank in for me until just now as I am writing this and I haven't decided if that is a good thing for us single parents, or a bad one. Perhaps with a little more thought it can have a page all its own. At the moment, however, that is off topic. Have you ever noticed that "Princess This or That" is always trying to find a way to leave her current "reality show" and find her "Prince So and So" to run off an live "happily ever after" with? If I were to read in to that, I would think there was some kind of subliminal statement Disney was making however as you may know by now, I am a tired single mom and I don't have time to entertain that thought at the moment. So, now we have "Single-Parent King or Queen", "Princess This or That" and "Prince So-and-So" on the scene after an imaginary wedding that we never see, and my kids questioning me about whom they can marry.
It was one of those very innocent statements that you hear your child make that is completely off any topic you have been discussing as you are driving down the road. My daughter stated, rather matter of factly that she loved her brother and "When I grow up and become a Mommy I will marry you Stephen!" The Single-Parent Queen of this household quickly let her know that first of all, she needed to get married before she became a Mommy, and secondly she could not marry her own brother. "Why not, Mom?" (insert a bewildered look here) Isn't it amazing how a simple answer from a parent always results in another question from an inquisitive little mind? "Well, because he is your brother and you can't marry your brother." Lucky for me, she accepted the answer that time. She then told me she wanted to marry Daddy and her brother could marry me. Once again, I explained she could not marry Daddy because he was Daddy. I then proceeded to lay down the "marriage rules":
1) You can't marry your brother or Daddy (or sister or Mommy) because they are family;
2) You have to be married before you become a mommy or daddy;
3) You should marry someone who loves Jesus and treats you right; and
4) Make sure the person you marry is honest and does not tell lies.
Thank goodness neither one of them questioned me on what treating them right meant. I am sure in their mind it would be a person who bought them an ice cream cone and in that case, any of you reading this would be able to marry my kids if you met the qualifications as set forth above..
So, now that we have the "marriage rules" established there is a little quiet in the back of the car, I can see the wheels turning on my daughter's face. A minute goes by and she asks, "Mommy, does Randy know Jesus?" If she could see my face, she would see that I am rolling my eyes as Randy is an adult friend of mine from church who is already married and I know where the conversation is headed. "Honey, you can't marry Randy. Randy is already married. You can't marry someone who is already married." I know… more rules!!!! I didn't even approach the age difference at this time.
So, that is how we have established some rules around marriage in our home. The topic comes up from time to time as to whom they think they will marry. It generally comes up out of the blue. I find myself wondering if they do this on purpose trying to catch me off guard and see if I will lax on the rules because my daughter has commented on several ocassions since that she wants to marry Randy. Every time she does, I remind her that he is already married and you can't marry someone who is already married (Rule #5). Thankfully, Randy has backed me up on this and has had a discussion with her as well about how they can be friends, but she should marry someone her own age. HAHA
So, this brings us up to the most recent conversation on marriage which occurred this morning over breakfast. Out of the blue my son asks me, "Mommy, do Uncle Todd, Auntie and the cousins in Sacramento all know Jesus?" I am assuming his stating where they live was important because I MUST have another brother somewhere whom he has never met and therefore there would be other cousins he does not know. He needed to make sure I was aware of which set of cousins he was referring to so I did not confuse it with the cousins that don't exist. I replied to his question, "Yes, they do know Jesus." "Oh good, " he replies. Mommy, I want to marry my Melissa." If you haven't figured it out already, Meliss is his cousin.
I can see we need to add to the marriage rules again. Father in Heaven, help me!!!
"Train up a child in the way he should go and in the end he will not depart from it." - Proverbs 22:
"Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord." - Ephesians 6:4
Friday, May 7, 2010
I'm No Perfect
It's not just a play on words. I'm no perfect mom, although I AM "Super Mom". At least according to my kids I am (I do seem to be missing my red tights and cape, however).
"Super Mom" to the rescue again, and this time... it was a battle with the huge mosquito threatening to eat the children. Like David and Goliath, I hath conquered the giant mosquito with my trusty .... flip-flop!!! Yes, the trusty flip-flop has defeated many a foe on our front porch. I was now doing the victory dance on the front porch after my latest conquest while the kids ran around the corner afraid for their lives! Flip-flops ARE a multi-purpose, death welding weapon of great power for the single mom who doesn't like flying creepy crawlies - or crawling creepy-crawlies, for that matter. There I am, doing the victory dance with my trusty black flip-flop while my kids begin to laugh. You see, the victory dance really was "Super Mom" freaking out about a spider. I am not afraid of the giant child-eating mosquito, however spiders are Super Mom's kryptonite! "The only good bug is a dead bug", was the motto I heard my dad say many times when I was growing up. I believe this is a good motto to live by. Go ahead and laugh, but one day I will consider having it stamped on T-shirts and sell them at camp grounds (my second path to making millions one day). They outta be a big hit.
So, with the child-eating mosquito smashed on the wall and the victory dance done, we can safely enter the house. It's after 9pm and our long day which started at 5:00am this morning is finally coming to an end. I am in a hurry to get the kids bathed and to bed so that I can enjoy a few minutes of "me" time. " My "me" time consists of washing any dishes that might still be in the sink, picking up any clothes left on the floor, placing backpacks and other various items in the appropriate place so that in the morning frenzy to leave the house 5 minutes late we won't forget anything important, like my 7 year old's lunch, or perhaps my brain. "Me" time also includes checking e-mail, listening to scripture, balancing the check book (oh joy... my favorite thing to do), and a variety of other annoying but necessary tasks that just never seem to get done on their own. Tonight however, as I look around the room, I am amazed at how much dust there seems to be on my night stand. Once I noticed the dust on the night stand, I forced myself to look at my dresser where I see, burried under the stacks of "stuff," more dust. I walk into the front room and notice there is dust there, too! "How could there possibly be that much dust in here? Didn't I just dust a few months ago? Did someone let the dust bunnies out of their crate in the garage and allow them to have their way in the house unsupervised this evening??? And while we are at it, who stacked all that "stuff" on my dresser, anyway??"
You see, I am no perfect house keeper. There was a time in my past - before kids - that I kept a pretty neat and orderly home, however those days are long gone (and seem like many life times ago). It was not easy acquiring the ability to ignore how sloppy my house was looking. It really did take some effort. I am envious of those moms whose homes I walk into and see a neat orderly castle with no dust anywhere in sight. Their kids rooms are tidy and the beds are made with perfect little hospital corners. Everything is in its place and the places are immaculate. The rooms are even themed! There is a part of me that wants to take lessons from that mom and ask her how she does it.... especially with the kids rooms. I would give my dusty night stand to get my two kids to truly clean their rooms. My 7-year old thinks cleaning is just pulling the covers up over the pillows. If you were to pull the covers back, you would find a myriad of things either immediately under the covers, or shoved under his bed. My 5-year old thinks cleaning is just moving things from the floor to the top of her dresser (hhhmmm... maybe SHE stacked all that "stuff" on top of my dresser). I have given up trying to tell her otherwise. I am just happy the floor is clear enough that I can get the vacuum in there!! Of course, when everything is piled on her dresser, I can no longer see the dust that is accumulating, which is what seemed to catch my attention this evening.
I have single mom friends whose homes look neat and tidy as well and I have often wondered how they get it done. Recently however, I was enlightened. You see, the secret we single moms have discovered is that only certain areas of the home need to be kept in respectable order - you ladies know what I am talking about. There was a reason that closets were invented, and if those don't work to hide your disorganized mess, well... there's always room under the bed for something besides the cat. I also have a garage I can move things to (let's not go there tonight). In some of our homes you might just find the "sock monster" under the bed gnawing away at the most recent pair of socks he stole from the dryer. Of course, the "sock monster" is another story altogether!
As I said, in a past life, my home was kept pretty tidy, even after my son was born. I am still not sure how I did it, but I somehow managed to get the hardwood floors wiped down every day and the kitchen was always spotless. Of course, if I weren't cleaning the floors every day we would have been over taken by dog hair, and that just couldn't happen with a pre-crawler in the home. Sitting here thinking about that time in my life, I realize that it truly was a life-time ago with a different "me" who was still married. It was a difficult thing for me to learn that it was okay to have a home that looked "lived in". For the longest time I felt like the ticket to my being a good mom was keeping my home clean and presentable. That was a false truth. The reality of life is that the cleanliness of my home does not tell you what kind of parent or person I am. What tells of the kind of parent and person I am is what my kids become.
In my home there are piles of things in places I would rather not have them, there is almost always an article of clothing (or several articles) on the floor somewhere in the house (just because you can't see them does not mean they aren't there), and if you decided to do the white glove test here... well, forget it. Take your white gloves and go to Ms. Hospital Corners house because I would fail the test pretty quickly. As a single mom I have had to learn to let those things go. I simply cannot get all of it done all of the time. What is truly more important to me is making sure my kids are happy and healthy, and that the people who enter my slightly-messy-but-lived-in-home feel welcomed and feel the presence and peace of Jesus. I don't need to have a Better Homes and Garden quality home; I simply need to have a better peaceful living home. God does not expect me to be perfect. 2 Samuel 22:33 says "It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect." He wants me to stop striving to please others and live to please Him. He doesn't care if my home is spotless, rather He cares that my soul is spotless. Romans 12:2 states: "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."
So, tonight when I am finished posting this and I step into the bathroom and see how sloppy the floor is or how dirty the counter is, I am not going to stress out over it. When I look at the floor and see all the hair that has fallen onto it (most of it mine - I guess it's true that kids make our hair fall out), I am not going to worry about getting it cleaned immediately. Instead, I am going to be reminded that I am fearfully and wonderfully made and that my Father in heaven knows the number of every hair on my head (and probably all those on the floor as well). I am going to remember that he is not interested in the cleaning of my home, but rather the cleansing of my spirit.
I am sure at some point I will get around to cleaning the bathroom as well as the rest of my house - and it may not all be clean at the same time. For now, however, I will settle with not being perfect because I am loved by God for who I am and for how messy my home is.
"Super Mom" to the rescue again, and this time... it was a battle with the huge mosquito threatening to eat the children. Like David and Goliath, I hath conquered the giant mosquito with my trusty .... flip-flop!!! Yes, the trusty flip-flop has defeated many a foe on our front porch. I was now doing the victory dance on the front porch after my latest conquest while the kids ran around the corner afraid for their lives! Flip-flops ARE a multi-purpose, death welding weapon of great power for the single mom who doesn't like flying creepy crawlies - or crawling creepy-crawlies, for that matter. There I am, doing the victory dance with my trusty black flip-flop while my kids begin to laugh. You see, the victory dance really was "Super Mom" freaking out about a spider. I am not afraid of the giant child-eating mosquito, however spiders are Super Mom's kryptonite! "The only good bug is a dead bug", was the motto I heard my dad say many times when I was growing up. I believe this is a good motto to live by. Go ahead and laugh, but one day I will consider having it stamped on T-shirts and sell them at camp grounds (my second path to making millions one day). They outta be a big hit.
So, with the child-eating mosquito smashed on the wall and the victory dance done, we can safely enter the house. It's after 9pm and our long day which started at 5:00am this morning is finally coming to an end. I am in a hurry to get the kids bathed and to bed so that I can enjoy a few minutes of "me" time. " My "me" time consists of washing any dishes that might still be in the sink, picking up any clothes left on the floor, placing backpacks and other various items in the appropriate place so that in the morning frenzy to leave the house 5 minutes late we won't forget anything important, like my 7 year old's lunch, or perhaps my brain. "Me" time also includes checking e-mail, listening to scripture, balancing the check book (oh joy... my favorite thing to do), and a variety of other annoying but necessary tasks that just never seem to get done on their own. Tonight however, as I look around the room, I am amazed at how much dust there seems to be on my night stand. Once I noticed the dust on the night stand, I forced myself to look at my dresser where I see, burried under the stacks of "stuff," more dust. I walk into the front room and notice there is dust there, too! "How could there possibly be that much dust in here? Didn't I just dust a few months ago? Did someone let the dust bunnies out of their crate in the garage and allow them to have their way in the house unsupervised this evening??? And while we are at it, who stacked all that "stuff" on my dresser, anyway??"
You see, I am no perfect house keeper. There was a time in my past - before kids - that I kept a pretty neat and orderly home, however those days are long gone (and seem like many life times ago). It was not easy acquiring the ability to ignore how sloppy my house was looking. It really did take some effort. I am envious of those moms whose homes I walk into and see a neat orderly castle with no dust anywhere in sight. Their kids rooms are tidy and the beds are made with perfect little hospital corners. Everything is in its place and the places are immaculate. The rooms are even themed! There is a part of me that wants to take lessons from that mom and ask her how she does it.... especially with the kids rooms. I would give my dusty night stand to get my two kids to truly clean their rooms. My 7-year old thinks cleaning is just pulling the covers up over the pillows. If you were to pull the covers back, you would find a myriad of things either immediately under the covers, or shoved under his bed. My 5-year old thinks cleaning is just moving things from the floor to the top of her dresser (hhhmmm... maybe SHE stacked all that "stuff" on top of my dresser). I have given up trying to tell her otherwise. I am just happy the floor is clear enough that I can get the vacuum in there!! Of course, when everything is piled on her dresser, I can no longer see the dust that is accumulating, which is what seemed to catch my attention this evening.
I have single mom friends whose homes look neat and tidy as well and I have often wondered how they get it done. Recently however, I was enlightened. You see, the secret we single moms have discovered is that only certain areas of the home need to be kept in respectable order - you ladies know what I am talking about. There was a reason that closets were invented, and if those don't work to hide your disorganized mess, well... there's always room under the bed for something besides the cat. I also have a garage I can move things to (let's not go there tonight). In some of our homes you might just find the "sock monster" under the bed gnawing away at the most recent pair of socks he stole from the dryer. Of course, the "sock monster" is another story altogether!
As I said, in a past life, my home was kept pretty tidy, even after my son was born. I am still not sure how I did it, but I somehow managed to get the hardwood floors wiped down every day and the kitchen was always spotless. Of course, if I weren't cleaning the floors every day we would have been over taken by dog hair, and that just couldn't happen with a pre-crawler in the home. Sitting here thinking about that time in my life, I realize that it truly was a life-time ago with a different "me" who was still married. It was a difficult thing for me to learn that it was okay to have a home that looked "lived in". For the longest time I felt like the ticket to my being a good mom was keeping my home clean and presentable. That was a false truth. The reality of life is that the cleanliness of my home does not tell you what kind of parent or person I am. What tells of the kind of parent and person I am is what my kids become.
In my home there are piles of things in places I would rather not have them, there is almost always an article of clothing (or several articles) on the floor somewhere in the house (just because you can't see them does not mean they aren't there), and if you decided to do the white glove test here... well, forget it. Take your white gloves and go to Ms. Hospital Corners house because I would fail the test pretty quickly. As a single mom I have had to learn to let those things go. I simply cannot get all of it done all of the time. What is truly more important to me is making sure my kids are happy and healthy, and that the people who enter my slightly-messy-but-lived-in-home feel welcomed and feel the presence and peace of Jesus. I don't need to have a Better Homes and Garden quality home; I simply need to have a better peaceful living home. God does not expect me to be perfect. 2 Samuel 22:33 says "It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect." He wants me to stop striving to please others and live to please Him. He doesn't care if my home is spotless, rather He cares that my soul is spotless. Romans 12:2 states: "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."
So, tonight when I am finished posting this and I step into the bathroom and see how sloppy the floor is or how dirty the counter is, I am not going to stress out over it. When I look at the floor and see all the hair that has fallen onto it (most of it mine - I guess it's true that kids make our hair fall out), I am not going to worry about getting it cleaned immediately. Instead, I am going to be reminded that I am fearfully and wonderfully made and that my Father in heaven knows the number of every hair on my head (and probably all those on the floor as well). I am going to remember that he is not interested in the cleaning of my home, but rather the cleansing of my spirit.
I am sure at some point I will get around to cleaning the bathroom as well as the rest of my house - and it may not all be clean at the same time. For now, however, I will settle with not being perfect because I am loved by God for who I am and for how messy my home is.
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