Today, as I made my breakfast, I noticed some old food stains on the counter. Then, as I reached to get coffee from the cupboard, a bottle of cooking spray, a container of toothpicks, and three of those little plastic cups that you can use to measure medicine came falling down on me.
The first thing I did was curse, and the second thing I did was think I’m a failure.
Which is funny, because I never really thought I’d care about the state of my home.
(As I type this, Emma is pulling at my pants leg with her paw. Breakfast today is peanut butter cheerios, which are our favorite.)
But once you move out and get your own place, you start to believe that when your house looks a mess and you can’t open cupboards without various cooking items falling on your head, it says something about you.
My house was saying I’m a slob. And slobs are bad, irresponsible, and lazy. Those are bad things, and I don’t want to be those!
I totally fell for the story I thought my house was telling me. I believed it was defining me. I started to feel really bad.
But in reality, no body and no thing can define me.
Only God can.
No one can say I’m guilty or I’m bad (unless I say so). And further, no one and no thing will make me feel this way unless I’ve asked it to. God knows we’re nothing but innocence and love, and so if we find ourselves feeling other than that, we’ve asked to feel guilty and separate. We’ve asked to be shown the ways in which we are bad and unworthy of love.
Okay, so my house doesn’t define me. God does. Woo-hoo! Does this mean I never have to clean my house? Well, no. In this illusion, I live in a home, and I don’t want to live in filth or have things fall on my head when I open up a cupboard.
But it does mean I don’t attach my definition of myself to my surroundings.
So I got busy and couldn’t clean for a few days! Does it mean I’m totally unlovable and terrible? No. So instead, I can say, Oh well.
Accepting guilt over this (even this, which seems so insignificant) means I accept that I am separate from God. This takes my power away from me and places it outside of me, which makes me feel vulnerable and lacking.
So let’s offer up the belief that our homes define who we are to God.
Spirit, right now I feel guilty for not keeping my house perfectly clean, organized, and decorated.
I am believing that my house and my surroundings can define me.
I don’t understand how they could not define me, but I’m willing to see this differently, and to accept Your vision of me instead of my own.
Thank You for helping me shift my perception and feel at peace again.