“….the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They are there to stop the other people…..Brick walls are there for a reason. They give us a chance to show how badly we want something.”
~Dr. Randy Pausch
A clean house. Not perfect. Not immaculate. Just in a state of relatively consistent comfortable cleanliness.
That is my brick wall. It’s about 1,00o,000 feet high, and maybe 2,000 feet thick, with no decent chinks for shoving in my fingers and toes to climb it. Too bad I’m not a snail.
Honestly, I don’t even know how to write about this. On one hand, I understand that my having four kids under the age of five can really put a damper on my efforts. On the other hand, I wonder if I am using my kids as an excuse to be lazy.
“She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.”
This is a verse that almost haunts me. Is idleness the reason I can’t seem to climb my brick wall? So many women have told me over and over that I need to cut myself some slack. While that is encouraging, and probably true, I can’t help but wonder: Do I cut myself too much slack? Am I just lazy?
There is a war in my head over these questions, and I’m not quite sure who the combatants really are. I’m almost positive that the Enemy has control of at least one voice in there. I also know that my own flesh claims responsibility for the casualties. Where is the Voice of Reason in all this?
The desire to have a comfortable, clean, and welcoming home is so strong in my heart. I just honestly don’t know why this brick wall is so high and so wide for me. Yes, I have four kids. So what? Shouldn’t I be able to keep up with just the basics better than I do?
I have tried listing and prioritizing. I’ve tried flexible scheduling. I’ve tried just picking up as I go. I have tried getting rid of more and more and yet more stuff. I haven’t been able to make any of them work for me.
I am overwhelmed by this wall. It feels like I’m standing at its foot, looking up, and I can’t see the top because it’s so high. It feels impossible. It looks like it just might fall on me and crush me. My instinct is to turn my back on the wall and pretend it’s not there. But something even stronger inside me tells me to look for the ladder or door or gate or any breach of any kind. Something. Anything that will just give me a boost.
And I’ve found one small chink – that may turn out to be a nice, wide gate. I finally swallowed a lot of pride, and asked several of my girlfriends to come help me out. We are going to have ourselves a housecleaning party. I am going to do my best to get daily chores out of the way as best as I can before that day, then we are going to give my house a top-to-bottom spring cleaning. Complete with babysitter, potluck, and probably loud music! And I think we will end the day on a chocolate note.
I have been wanting to ask for help for a long time, but it just seems like so much! I keep telling myself I’d do one big job each week, so I could get it done. But I can barely keep clean dishes in the cupboard and clean underwear in our drawers. I give up. I surrender. I’m going to let other people make me the object of their charity.
So. Maybe my brick wall has nothing to do with my house. Maybe it has much more to do with my pride. Hm. Apparently, I have some serious praying to do. Pronto.