Lesson(s) Learned

Over the years, one thing I've learned about myself is this: I value order. For me, what this looks like in a practical sense is daily routines, a-love-for-filled-out-planners, and a semi-always neat home. What I'm about to tell you may shock some of you mamas out there: Somewhere in the birth canal, our personal values are lost upon our offspring. In other words, I birthed a child who in no way reflects my value for order. She's young, sure. She's intelligent. She's kind and compassionate. She's a CREATIVE child. But she - in no way - values order. Unfortunately, for a good period of time, I allowed this difference-of-values to rob our house of peace. It usually revolved around how the hand towels in our kitchen and bathrooms are hung. (Just writing this out makes me realize how petty and particular I've been about it in the past.) Every single time I saw the hand towels messed up, I would call said child back into the room, show her how to tri-fold the tow

When the clock strikes midnight, it’s time to get home.  But what we learn at the ball tonight, we need to make known.  Life’s not a party. It’s more of a dance. And thankfully, none of it is left to chance.  There IS an Orchestrator.  He chooses the songs - He handles the beat.  We simply decide what to do with our feet. For now, we sit at our table, content in our seats. We watch all the people.  We converse.  Laugh. And Repeat.  In walks Joy. (We all knew she was invited.)  Her presence alone makes everyone excited.  She’s an old friend, a sweet soul we all know.  She goes straight to the dance floor and (of course) steals the show.  Then suddenly, Joy steps off to the side.  It seems that something threw her off her stride.  It was him.  Everything changed when he entered in.  A sloppy, stinking young man walked through the door.  (People wonder if he’s ever been here before.)  With dirty clothes and disheveled hair,  all of the people begin to stare.  Was he invited?  Is it a mist