I often say to myself, “As many things as I pick up and always put right where they belong, you’d think my house would be spotless.” It doesn’t seem to matter that I deal with the mail daily…that I hang up the diaper bag every time we come in the house….that I keep laundry picked up…..(insert all housekeeping chores). There is always always always stuff around the house and stuff that needs to be put away.
There’s always clutter and piles and dirt. A lot of that is because our house is very small and we just don’t have good places for everything. Some of it is because we live here and I’m the only one who seems to notice the messes.
Today, Lee got home after we left for church. We couldn’t wait to get home and see him. After we had lunch, I was walking through the house and saw this.
I wasn’t annoyed, I just sighed and went to pick up another pile of stuff. Then I stopped and got my camera. If you’ve ever read my post “A Man Does Not Live Here”, you read about the clues to show there is no man living in our house if you looked closely enough.
“Hey!” I thought, “a man lives here.” and then I smiled. I thought about it for quite awhile this afternoon. Just a simple pile of clutter–my husband’s jacket and my sweater but it’s so much more than that.
It means he’s home with us. It means it’s behind us. It means we made it. And for us to make it is so much more than I can put in those 3 little words.
Thank you, God for man clutter in my house. It means a man lives here.