Prior to writing this, I just finished sweeping my laundry room floor. Despite having cleaned it last week, once again it was messy. When a certain young man who lives in my house does his laundry he has a tendency to forget about the tissues, wrappers, small lego pieces, etc. that are in his pocket. The result is a wide assortment of debris on the floor. At this point in life I’m just happy he’s doing his own laundry. I’ll wait a couple of more years before getting on him about the state of the laundry room floor when he’s done.
Now, this same person, who will remain nameless, is also responsible for 90% of the crumbs in my car, the gook on the refrigerator door, the splatter in the microwave, and the copious fingerprints on my wall. This type of stuff used to drive me crazy. Cleaning day found me in a foul mood. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to take the messiness of life in stride. My other option would be to have a clean house and car, but be missing this wonderful person from my life. I don’t like that option.
Life is messy. It is messy because of the people in our lives. The people who mess up our things. The people who interfere with our schedules. The people who work our nerves. But these are the same people who give our life its richness. The people who make us smile. The people who are there when we cry.
There was popular book in the 90’s entitled “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff…and It’s All Small Stuff” by Richard Carlson. A messy house (or car or schedule) definitely falls into the category of small stuff. In the end your children won’t remember that toilet was spotless or that carpet was always vacuumed. Instead they’ll remember making a marble run from wrapping paper tubes or that Friday night was family movie nights. THOSE are the more important things.