Sometimes failure looks like a messy house.
Failure leers at me from the kitchen sink where dishes multiply with the voracity of an alley-full of un-spayed cats.
Failure jeers at me from the dining room table that is covered with everything from two-night’s-ago dinner crumbs to Bible study books to Christmas cards that I have every intention of getting in the mail sometime before April.
Failure snickers at me from my bedroom where my bed is piled high with maternity clothes waiting to be absorbed into the closet and a mattress which was generously baptized in cat urine during our beach-Thanksgiving hiatus. What a lovely welcome home gift. Big Friend and I are unceremoniously camping out on the floor of the vacant nursery while we decide what to do with the pee-logged mattress.
My perfectionist soul looks around my house in bewildered wonder and weeps.
My perfectionist soul makes list of all my friends who have it more together than I do. The list is lengthy. It includes…everyone.
And this is where a whisper of grace comes in.
Sometimes success looks like a messy house, the grace whispers.
…Because truth be told, my house looks like this because, when Little Friend is not sleeping, I’m pouring my minutes into her and neglecting the dirty dishes and cobwebs. I’m wearing out the knees of my jeans on the floor with her pretending to submit to the doctor’s prolific shots, concoct blanket-pillow fortresses, and eat pieces of pretend cake that go down with an “Mmmmmmm.”
…Because if I had the perfect house of my soul’s dreams, I’d have a little girl playing in a corner by herself while I whisked around making everything look just as it should.
On days when I open the front door and sweep aside the pile of yesterday’s mail dumped on the boot tray and want to cringe from the failure that screams from every room I enter, I’m grateful that a whisper of grace can be louder and more insistent.
So excuse me while I go play with Little Friend and let the household duties take the backseat for awhile. Later, when I’ve discovered how exactly to emulate Super Woman and have a lovely home and happy kid, I’ll invite you over for a playdate.
Then again, why hide? Why not just come over today and get a glimpse of the failure/success of my life? It’s not pretty. But it’s real. And it’s grace-filled.
This post is shared with The Gypsy Mama’s Five Minute Fridays.