The Dishes Don’t Know It’s Sunday

I have a confession.  I’m a little bit of a control freak.  Household control to be exact.  A place for everything, and everything in its place.  This freak streak runs so deep in me, I was sure my children would be born with a natural inclination to put things away.  Umm, not so much.  Of course, my passion for order tends to bubble up in me at the most inconvenient times, like when we’re leaving to go out of town, having dinner guests, or most often on Sunday mornings while we are getting ready for church.  My husband is not a big fan of my last minute dish washing, coffee pot cleaning,  or floor sweeping.  He’ll usually ask me if what I am doing is on the critical path to getting out of the door on time.  Well, if it’s on the path to retaining my sanity, I consider that critical.  And, yes, my husband uses the phrase “critical path” in everyday conversation…

I am sure there are technical terms for my obsession with orderly perfection.   I think I just came up with my own – OOPS (obsession with orderly perfection syndrome).  I know that my idea of control is an illusion.  I know that God alone IS in control, I just don’t function well in chaos.  Perhaps not everyone can relate to household OOPS,  but maybe they can relate on another level – controlling their children’s appearances and behaviors, controlling their careers, controlling their spouses, controlling their weight, etc… These are not all bad things by themselves, but we can abuse them by the amount of attention and energy we put toward them, and where we place them in our priorities.  Some of us need to analyze our priorities every once in awhile.  We are not crazy enough to need professional help, just crazy enough for it to interfere with our peace of mind sometimes.  Can anyone relate?

It is Sunday.  Holy day.  Set aside for worship.  I find I am really wrestling with my OOPS today.  I blame this in part on the mountain of dishes waiting in the sink when we got home from church this afternoon.  (small disclaimer:  I am not condemning dishwashing on Sunday, nor am I justifying not ever doing the dishes – I’m sticking this in here for all my lawyer friends, you know who you are)  I need to take a moment and think.  Why am I stressing out?  Have I put my clean house above recognizing the Sovereign Lord?  Today of all days?  Fact is,  after every meal there will be dirty dishes, even on Sunday.  Rest.  Peace.  Daughter, “Be still, and know that I am God.”(Ps 46:10)


5 thoughts on “The Dishes Don’t Know It’s Sunday

  1. Hey! Funny I found your blog via facebook after you posted a comment to me!
    Welcome to the blog world.
    So far I enjoyed reading and catching up.
    I do remember how I loved your clean house and kitchen back in Olde Towne.
    Everything in it’s place.
    We could control it then when charlotte and Caroline were babies but now with 3 and 4 kids, it is quite a challenge.
    I can relate to being a southern girl in a place like Uganda.
    No sweet tea here either.
    No one says, Daaling (My Grandmother used to say, “Hey, Daaling!”
    Better run. Keep up the good work!

  2. Katherine Thompson says:

    I needed that today especially considering I have the mop in one hand and the vacuum in the other!!

  3. Hubbey says:

    I think you’re a little loose with the phrase “MOUNTAIN of dishes.” As I recall, the “mountain” was 3 plates and a plastic cup.

  4. Gloria says:

    I’ve got that same OOPS thing going on!

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