Gratitude: It ain't mine...

Growing up, we had a joke in our house that if you stood still long enough in the summer, Mom would paint you.

While I have no real proof, my suspicion is that Mom spent the entire school year planning what home improvement projects she wanted to tackle during the summer.

There was the semi-annual basement clean out. The annual attic re-organization. Taking all the dishes out of the cabinets to clean them. And then whatever paint project.

Sometimes it was just the baseboards. Sometimes a paint job on the walls. And sometimes it was more elaborate and included a pineapple stencil.

You know. Those things were popular once.

I remember the projects themselves but I don't remember her asking me to help or my offering to do so. Maybe she did but it's highly unlikely I would volunteer for that. They were her projects for her home.

And I was a teenager.

All things in her life received that kind of care and attention. Her classroom was the never-ending project. Rugs and paint and home-made games.

The house was always spotless. She will argue this but really, it was. I literally cannot think of a single day her bed was not made. Unless someone was sick.

The homestead was on a two week rotation for deep cleaning. One weekend was cleaning the inside. The next was cleaning the outside.

Her car was also germ-free and polished to a shine. So much so that she never changed the tape in her cassette player. Bringing another tape in would create clutter (she never actually said that but really, there is not another reason why someone would listen to the same Sandi Patti tape for ten years)

Not surprisingly enough, my brother and I turned out a smidge like her. Adam is a little more of a germaphobe than I am but we are both excellent cleaners. And happily, we married wonderful people who both love and respect this about us. Chris is a big help but he admits he can't out clean a Jones.

Since I've been on Pinterest, I've seen a whole lot of signs for the house that say things like "Excuse the mess, we live here" or "Pardon the mess, the children are making memories."

I totally get those. Seriously. Pumpkin has an incredible knack for creating a huge mess while I'm attempting to do something silly like fold laundry. Or take a shower. Can't even tell you what an absolute nightmare my bathroom looks like after a ten minute shower.

Oh, I bring toys in for her. She's not interested in those. The drawers are way cooler.

But just because I have a toddler and getting cleaning and projects done is far more difficult than I ever imagined, I still do them.

Partly because it's in my DNA.

Although it's also because I firmly believe all of it, the house, the car, our clothes, the furniture, the appliances, belongs to someone else.

My Heavenly Father.

We often teach our children that God made the trees, feeds the birds, sends us the rain, warms us with the sun. But I wonder how much we teach them about stewardship.

God put this managerial org chart in place on the first page of the Bible:

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.

And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so. ~ Genesis 1:28-30

He created it. Then He gave it to us to manage.

I feel the same way about all our "stuff". It's His. He gave it to us. We have the privilege of managing it.

And so, I take care of what belongs to Him. I clean, paint, repair and keep up with maintenance schedules.

Okay, Chris keeps up with maintenance schedules.

Is the house always clean? Heck no. But do I make a point to do it? Yep. Because we may live here and we are certainly making memories but we are also teaching and raising a little person to be a humble, respectful, kind person who will hopefully learn from me, just like I learned from my mom, ...

It ain't mine. God's just given it to us to watch over.