Confessions of (reformed) clutterbug

Here's what I used to think:


We've had about six house showings in the last week and a half. That means that people I don't know are strolling through my house eyeing it up to see if they'd like to live in it. No pressure.
I always anticipated the day we might put our house on the market with excitement and dread. Dread, because I am a life-long clutterbug. I always have a pile of SOMETHING in most every room. Magazines that I plan to read. Mail I need to go through. Coupons to clip. Shoes. Clean laundry. Hairpins. Yesterday's earrings. You name it. 

Having people over always meant several hours straightening up. I keep my bathrooms clean, and we both work on the kitchen every day...but our living areas have always been just a little less than perfect. All in all, I'm ok with that. We have a toddler, so pristine will not be an option for a long while.
However, I have definitely discovered in the last three weeks that keeping a clean house is a lot easier than cleaning a house. I'm trying like heck to be less lazy and putting things where they belong as soon as I'm done with them. My post-college roommate would read this and say, "WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!?" My clutter-habits probably cost her a few night's sleep. I try to leave the house in about 20-minutes-til-ready each day. That's what I think it would take to get it ship-shape for a showing. It's sooo awesome to walk into a clean home each evening. I still need to work on actually FINDING a place for everything. That's my real challenge. But I surely am enjoying this keeping things clean thing.
Am I reformed? I hope so. I will never be a vacuum twice a day kind of girl, but it seems to take less time to keep the clutter at bay than it does to try to attack it every Saturday.

Now if only the laundry would magically load itself...


Hurry Up and Wait.

I like to think of myself as a fairly patient person. I do have deep faith in God, which should ultimately lead to all kinds of patience. I mean, if God is really in control...if His ways are higher than our ways and His thoughts higher than our thoughts...if He really has me and mine in the palm of His hand and the shadow of His wings...well, shoot. He can handle my piddly little life circumstances! (I'm going to "amen" myself. That'll preach, y'all) AMEN? Amen.

Whew. The last few weeks have definitely been a test of whether I believe all that. We started house-hunting. Somewhat accidentally on purpose. For some reason, Jerod decided that there were a handful he'd like to go out and see. I mean, yes, I have been keeping tabs on the market pretty well over the past 10 months. As in, he would mention a property he looked at online...and I'd respond with, "Oh the brick one with the cute porch and purple kitchen? I think it's too far out..." To which he would stare at me blankly. "Imagine what else you could do with all the brain power it took to memorize every house for sale in Rock Hill." Yes, he said that to me.
Well, what fun would that be? I'm a visual learner, so after multiple looks at a house and pictures, I knew where they were on the map and which one had a huge painting hung UNDER the window next to the toilet. For real. Who hangs a picture at knee-level? Should we even discuss what manner of stuff might get ON said picture? So, basically looking at other people's houses is a fascinating exercise whether I ended up buying one or not. I *might have created a new addiction.

Long story short (what's the fun in that?), we found a house we love just a few miles away. Double the square footage, very affordable, even closer to interstate...with a stellar front porch and sunroom. Pretty much everything we've ever wanted in a house.

I've never bought a house. Without going into a litany of the back-and-forth, let's just say the past few weeks have been a difficult emotional roller coaster. Waiting on phone calls, checking email...and now our house is for sale. I stare at my phone hoping someone is setting up a showing. Ring, ring, ring, phone.

Then, I remember to pray for our potential buyers. That our house will suit them just it has us. They will have a place to make lovely memories. Prayer. Feels so useless sometimes, but I remind myself that it's the feet to that faith that I profess. I'm not talking to the clouds. This whole experience is a good reminder of all of that. Sometimes you step out in faith and trust the ground to appear beneath your feet.

Lord, please help me trust you in the midst of all this waiting. Help me not to be a worrying waiter. Help me trust in your goodness and grace. Amen. AMEN!