I walked into the kids’ bathroom today and as the light streamed in, the mirror looked like this.
I saw globs of toothpaste in the sink, trash on the floor, and the rug crumpled against the bathtub.
My first reaction was to sigh in annoyance.
So I was surprised when I caught myself sighing in gratitude.
I started to think about what would have to happen for my house to be spotless. It hit me that the mess in my house is the best kind of mess. The mess in my house is because of answered prayers. Beautiful children I longed for for so many years. Healthy kids who run and romp and get dirty. Bright-faced kids who rescue trash from the park and turn it into art. Explorers who find beauty in rocks and leaves and sticks.
If I have a mess in my house, it means I have everything I’ve ever wanted. And that is something to be thankful for.
And so as I wipe down the mirror, clean out the sink, and straighten the rug, I whisper the best prayer of all, “Thank you.”