Handprints

I just can’t wipe it off. A few years ago, I would’ve grabbed the 409 and cleaned that sucker off the side of the house in a hot minute. But now….it’s a reminder of them. The precious children I’ve been blessed enough to raise. The little souls who have taught me that life is messy and that’s okay.

I know this won’t come as a shock to most of you, but my kids are not very good at cleaning up. My daughter moves throughout the house like the Tasmanian Devil, leaving a trail of markers, cut paper, slime, Orbeez (spawned from Satan himself), and Capri Sun pouches. The other day my son was building a Nerf Gun riot shield (I know, it involves guns, but it’s creative, right?) and I found myself tripping over the tool box, stepping on nails and slipping on sawdust. My organizational tendencies kicked in and I felt my anxiety begin to rise.

“This stuff needs to be put away.”

“You need to clean this up.”

“Why would you leave this in the middle of the room?!?”

The kids always promise they will, and they usually do, after multiple reminders. But it suddenly occurred to me that day that I was killing a moment. By complaining and nagging them about cleaning up before they were even done with the activity, what kind of message was I sending? I heard a voice speaking to my spirit, ‘Just embrace the mess.’ Please understand that I am about as Type A as they come and disorganization makes me physically anxious, so this statement certainly did not come from my subconscious! I truly believe God was reminding me to let my kids be kids and to experience joy and creativity with them, rather than squelching it. There’s a time for cleaning up, but there’s a time for making messes, too. And what joy we can find in those moments when we let them happen!

So I encourage you to leave the pillow forts set up. Step over the LEGOs for a bit longer. Don’t wash off the muddy handprint just yet. Because they won’t be there forever.