Messy rooms

My wife and I are neat freaks. I vacuum daily, constantly wipe down counters, and spend at least 15 minutes each morning and evening tidying up the house.

It’s nice having a clean house. I love it. It makes our home inviting and cozy.

The last couple of weeks, though, I’ve caught myself entranced by messes. 

The other day, I walked into the kitchen after a morning bout of work. The house was empty; my wife and the kids were out. I noticed the sunlight streaming into our playroom through the window. It was picturesque, like the scene from a movie. 

I walked to the door of the playroom and looked around. The playroom is the one room we let get messy.

I stood there, leaning against the door frame, reminding myself that one day, this room would turn into a study. The toys would be gone because girls don’t play with dolls forever, and boys lose interest in toy cars.

And then I thought about what a study would mean – kids working on homework, cutting up crafts, pens and pencils and projects scattered about. 

And then I thought about what would come after that. My kids would be out of the house. This little playroom – a sanctuary for my kids today – would be empty. The only mess would be the dust collecting on shelves and desks that, no doubt, my wife and I would keep up with cleaning.

I don’t like messy rooms. But today, the presence of a mess reminds me of what I cherish most – my family. 

Without them, my home would be an unblemished masterpiece of cleanliness and organization…

And all I’d wish for then would be a mess – for the evidence I have each day of a home filled with imagination, laughter, and love.