The Grace of Good Habits

“Let all things be done decently and in order.”
(1 Cor. 14:40)

Dearest Daughters,

Well, here we go, beginning a new year of Dearest Daughters letters. I thought I would start by talking about some of the tricks, tips, and helps I’ve learned in housekeeping over the years.

In my very first letter to you a year ago, I talked about how motherhood is like a dance. I really meant that. To me, it’s still the image that most captures what it means to be a wife, mother, homemaker, and all the other things God may call us to be. There are many steps in the dance, and no two are exactly alike. The rhythm may change, the song may change, and we must bow, bend, step to the side, step back, and step forward in time with the music.

Homemaking is much the same. There are seasons when it comes more easily and seasons when it doesn’t. As your families grow and your responsibilities expand, you will discover that keeping a home orderly is not simply a matter of wanting to do it. It requires patterns, habits, and systems that help carry the load when life becomes full.

I’m blessed to see all of you keeping your homes well, at least from the times I’ve spent with you. Some of you are better at it than I am, but there have certainly been seasons when I’ve done better and seasons when I’ve done worse. I love a clean home, an orderly home, and a beautiful home, and I really dislike clutter. When I got married, I confidently told myself that my house would never be messy or dirty. It was a lesson in humility to discover that good intentions alone do not keep a house!

I’ll tell you the story of when I first realized that simply deciding to do something was not enough.

Helen, you were only a week old.

I had nothing to wear that fit properly after your birth, and I was realizing that losing the baby weight did not necessarily mean fitting back into my pre-pregnancy clothes, at least not right away. Prior to your birth, I had kept an immaculate house. After you arrived, it seemed as though all I ever did was feed you, change you, prepare meals, clean them up, make laundry piles ten times larger than Dad and I had ever produced, and then try to find time to wash, fold, and put everything away again.

One day, right before lunch, I was trying to find something to wear because we had an event to attend. After trying on about the ninth outfit and tossing it onto the couch in frustration, I heard a knock at the door.

I nearly had a heart attack.

My hair was a mess. Nine outfits were draped across the couch. A load of unfolded laundry sat in a chair. Breakfast dishes were still in the sink.

Then the knock came again.

What do you do?

I gathered up the pile of clothes from the couch, wadded them into my arms, tossed them onto my bed, and hurried back to answer the door. It was my parents and some relatives of my dad’s. I couldn’t believe it!

“Sorry to drop in unannounced,” Dad said, “but we were driving by, and I thought they would enjoy seeing your wedding furniture.”

Several family members had made beautiful furniture for us as wedding gifts. Your Uncle Abraham and some of Dad’s friends had made our coffee table, rocking chair, bed, dresser, and nightstands. Your Uncle Philip had made our dining table and chairs.

Then Dad added the fatal words:

“I knew you always kept an immaculate house, so I figured it wouldn’t alarm you too much.”

I laughed weakly.

“A baby has changed that,” I said.

Everyone was gracious, but when they stepped inside, I could see the surprise on my parents’ faces. Not only did they tour the living room, but one of the ladies wanted to see the bedroom furniture as well. After they finally left, I flopped onto the couch and covered my face with my hand. Oh, no!

I was going to have to establish some patterns and rules for myself because this couldn’t happen again. I’m still cringing about it twenty-eight years later.

That day, I made a few decisions. First, I would not do laundry in the living room. The living room would remain a sanctuary. No piles of laundry. No household clutter.

Later this developed even further. I don’t generally allow children to play in the living room unless they are playing there with their parents. Toys belong in designated play spaces. The purpose of this rule isn’t rigidity but hospitality. I want to be able to welcome company into my living room without first needing thirty minutes to make it presentable.

Second, I made a rule that I would never go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink.

Third, I’d never leave the house with dirty dishes in the sink unless there was a genuine emergency.

Those simple habits helped me enormously.

The lesson was not really about laundry or dishes but that good intentions are rarely enough. Homes are generally not kept by inspiration but by patterns.

Scripture tells us that everything should be done decently and in order. It has always struck me that when the disciples entered the empty tomb, they found the grave clothes lying there and the face cloth folded separately. There was order even in the midst of the greatest miracle in history. I figured that if there could be order in an empty tomb on resurrection morning, there ought to be some order in my laundry basket as well.

During different seasons, I’ve handled laundry in different ways. As you children grew older, I taught you to fold and put away your own clothes. But during that season with a newborn, I folded everything immediately as it came off the clothesline or out of the dryer and placed it directly into a basket ready to carry to the drawers. It was one less pile to create and one less pile to conquer later.

Over the years I’ve learned dozens of little habits, tricks, and systems that have helped me care for a home and family. Some were learned from wise women; others came through trial and error. And some came through embarrassing moments such as the one I just told you about.

Over the next few months, I’d like to share more of these with you. Take what is useful, discard what is not, and adapt the rest to your own homes and personalities.

The goal is not perfection but to create a place of peace, welcome, beauty, and provision for the people God has entrusted to your care.

With all my love,

Mom