I live a double life.
No, I'm not a spy. I'm not a body double for a famous actress. Would that I was!
My terrible secret is this......I have an Evil Twin.
To meet me on the street you'd never know it. I seem like the consummate wholesome-but-a-little-to-the-left-of-June-Cleaver type. I have a nice job at a nice place where people like me and have nicknamed me "Mom." I treat people well and care about them. I attend a nice church and love the nice people I minister with.
But all of that is outside of my home.
Home is supposed to be a place you come when you need a place of solace. It's where you go when you need love and affirmation. Parents are always understanding and kind, ready with a listening ear and a sage word of advice. Children are ready and willing to help at a moment's notice, and show the utmost respect, admiration and love toward their parents. All physical needs are met in abundance. You can pick up clean clothes and a hot meal any time, day or night, and sleep in a warm bed between freshly laundered sheets. Home has no clutter or disorganization, no dirty dishes or dust. The yard is always mowed, the bushes are always trimmed. That's what makes it HOME.
Unless you live at my house.
The Evil Twin lives there. Painful as it is to report, my house does not contain many of these attributes. The clean clothes my family wears are usually dug out of a laundry basket or taken off of the clothes rack next to the dryer. Clean sheets are at a premium, and Mount Washmore is a standing joke in our garage. Clutter is something we've come to live with and accept as a part of daily life throughout the years. If it isn't dusty, you can bet on one of two things: company's coming, or it doesn't live in our house.
The sad part of all of this is that my children have learned to live this way. This is NORMAL LIFE for them. But that's not the worst of it. We don't have friends over. We don't have parties, we don't have meetings in our house. I'm ashamed to call our house a home.
I was brought up by a dyed-in-the-wool-perfectionistic-take-a-toothbrush-to-the-bathroom-tile-every-Saturday-morning-cleanaholic mother. I KNOW better. And every so often I really do try to DO better. I get on my bandwagon and go through great cleaning sweeps equal to the Crusades. Cobwebs are banished, floors are mopped, sheets are changed, vacuuming is done, clutter is ousted, organizing is accomplished, dirt is vanquished and meals are prepared in advance.
And then I collapse in a heap for the next six months.
I've also tried enlisting the help of the family with the Crusades. This results in great wars amongst the troops. They complain "But no one's coming over!" I get angry, they get angry, all of God's chilluns get angry. It's easier just to do it myself. I've tried coming home from work and asking them to do one thing....just one thing...when I walk in the door. Know what I get?
"Oh great...Mom's in a bad mood again." Don't they know it's the Evil Twin and not really ME?
A woman can only take so much.
I've tried a reward system. I've tried paying them. I've tried punishing them. I've tried enlisting the help and support of their father. We won't even go there. I've even gone so far as to see a counselor. End result?
It's my problem and I have to deal with it.
So here's how I'm dealing with it. The best and only way I know how. www.flylady.net will have me back as a subscriber as of today. I may be able to do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but I sure can't do this alone.
That Evil Twin's gotta go.
Philippians 3:13 - 14
No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. (NLT)