Ridiculous Me

Yesterday, I was in an ungrateful, bad mood.

I woke up and looked at our stained and spotted carpet.  Ugly.

I did a huffy breath when I noticed my leaky bathroom sink while brushing my teeth.

I sighed when I looked around at our tiny apartment that feels cramped and looks cluttered no matter how I arrange the furniture or store our belongings.

I scraped my toe on one of the many gouges in our yellowed, lanolium floor in the kitchen.

I wanted to scream when I noticed bleach spots and discoloration on some of the clean laundry (we don't own bleach; it all comes courtesy of our laundromat!)

When I went into Kenadie's room to put away some laundry, I wanted to cry at how her room is the dumping place for the massage table, yoga ball, bouncer, 15+ blankets and quilts, and several bags and bins of clothes.

It looks like one big storage closet with a crib thrown in the mix.

I had had enough!  

Garrett graciously volunteered to reorganize our small storage unit so that I could shove most of the things from Kenadie's room into it.

I spent all day cleaning and reorganizing.

Though my de-clutter rampage helped me feel slightly better,

I still wanted to cry

because I knew that when I was done, Kenners room and even our whole apartment still wouldn't be a place I would want to invite guests into. 

Our furniture is falling apart.

I don't have cute decor, no painted walls, no color scheme,

nearly no sign that a female or homemaker even lives here (beyond the sewing machine and all of its mess covering our table).

Our apartment probably looks no better than most college-aged bachelor pads.

In my ridiculous self-pity, 

the thought suddenly came to me:

Holly, you need a large slice of humble pie (with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, please?)!  Seriously, if I were to pray about my current "misfortunes", it would probably come out sounding like this...

"Dear Heavenly Father,  please help me.
I have too many blankets and quilts to keep me warm.

I have so many clothes and toys given to Kenadie by friends that I have no space for them.  

My apartment is too full of the basic furniture that I need to sit and sleep on.  

I have plenty of clean clothes but a lot of it has odd bleach stains and discoloring.  

The remnants of snacks, dripping bottles, and leaking diapers are spotting my carpet like a Jackson Pollock masterpiece and reminding me that I have an angelic little cherub tooting around our home every day.

My walls are covered with cheap $5 Wal-Mart picture frames that contain paintings of the Savior and pictures of our loving family and friends.  

I have water to drink, bathe in, brush my teeth with, and my leaky faucet is catapulting this burden into catastrophe.  

Never mind that I have ten fingers and ten toes; I scraped one of them on the floor this morning! 

Woe is me."

Or, this prayer could be shortened into one sentence:

"Please, Heavenly Father, help me to cope and deal with all my blessings."

Yep, that's how it would sound

 and I feel rather ashamed.

Why do I place such importance on having a home with cute decor and furniture to show off? 

Why do I feel like it is such a necessity to have an adorable nursery for Kenners complete with the letters "K-E-N-A-D-I-E" above her crib, a color scheme, and matching furniture? 

While order and cleanliness is important to have in a home,

little (in terms of material possession) beyond that really matters.

What matters is that I create an atmosphere in our home

 where Kenadie can know and feel that she is a child of God, that her Savior loves her, that we can be an eternal family, and that we can return to live with our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ someday.

Stain-free carpets and Pottery Barn-worthy furniture and decor won't teach her that. 

Nor will it be the factor that makes our home inviting to guests.

No, having a Christ-centered, loving home is what will really draw friends and family to want to visit and be a part of our lives.

I need to start reminding myself of this more often

because life is too great and too short for me to spend it complaining about my perceived burdens that are really just a part of my greatest blessings.