Every morning little feet pitter-patter into my bedroom, straight over to my husbands side of the bed. There is a flurry of excited whispers and then, if it is not still too early, my husband gives them the okay to go put on their rubber boots. Then my sleepy husband rises, dresses, and takes 2 or 3 excited children into the backyard, still donning pajamas tucked into their bright rubber boots, to tend to the chickens.
They do all this as stealthily as 3 and 4 year old children do anything, as to let mommy sleep. But sometimes I peak outside my bedroom window and watch as my kids skip across the backyard, hand in hand with their daddy, to do this one chore that they truly love doing.
This is a special thing that my kids share with their father. And they won't always share it. There will come a time when my kids would rather lay sleepily in bed than jump in backyard mud puddles on the way to the coop. Or maybe, there will come a day when this chore will become a morning ritual all their own while daddy dozes with his head next to mine. But for a season, this is magic.
And then, when I rise and prepare breakfast and set about tidying up the house, I find myself greeted by boots and mud.
It would be so easy to find myself grumbling as I pick up these boots day after day. It would be easy to mutter something half under my breath but just barely loud enough for my husband to hear...
...something about the coat closet only being ten feet away.
...something about how I just cleaned this floor yesterday.
...something about how I already have enough to do.
Something I can't take back.
But this pile of muddy boots and floor is so much more than that. It is a symbol of something precious. I don't want to ruin it.
If the whole point of our homes were to keep them nice and pretty, to shine them up and show them off, then maybe it would be okay to nag our husbands about where the boots land. Or the socks that miss the laundry basket. Or a million other little things. Because we would be here to serve the house.
But the house is here to serve us. It's a tool we enjoy as part of this incredible life we share. And so instead of changing the way we live to make for a cleaner house, I needed to change the way the house serves us to meet the way our family is using it.
I got a little wooden rack thing at a thrift store for 2 dollars. I don't know what the rack was originally created for, but in our house, it is a spot for boots.
It's not the perfect spot for a line of rubber boots. It's not the most convenient spot. It isn't a radical solution. If a magazine were going to come into my house to take pictures (yeah right!), I am certain they would be moving these rubber boots. But in our house it is a beautiful sight. Because the lives that this house serves are magical, full of excitement and wonder over little pleasures,
We clean and decorate and organize our homes, not for the sake of our homes, but so that our homes can be better backdrops for the lives we live in them. Love your home for the life that thrives inside.
In what ways are you serving your house's needs? How can you turn it around today so that your home is better serving your families needs?