At the end of a 12-hour day,
there's paper scraps beneath the table
and sprinkles in the cracks of the chairs.
A mound of dirty dishes sits in the sink
while yesterday's laundry still isn't put away.
I murmur the words again..
"A right-ordered house isn't virtuous
like a right-ordered heart.
It's never worth disordering the heart
simply to get a right-ordered house.
Is my love ordered towards a
Better Homes and Gardens House?
Or a better, holy heart?"
-Ann Voskamp
I think of the snuggles and laughs,
the princess tales and soccer games,
reading goodnight stories
and the little voice calling for
'just one more hug Eenna'.
And the disordered house?
It doesn't matter anymore.
