Legos In My Sanctuary

I went to bed last night feeling frustrated over the same thing that frustrates me many nights: the condition of our bedroom. I cynically think of my naive vow as a single girl to "make our bedroom the most beautiful, neat place in the house when I'm married; a sanctuary for us as a couple."
HA!! "That was a nice dream," I think to myself, as I step on Legos and stub my toes on toy trucks - hidden under the bedspread my two year old pulled half-way off the bed. I look tiredly at the laundry basket full of clean socks to be matched. I divert my eyes only to see the overflowing hamper with clothes to be washed. With a sigh I decide sleep is a better way of dealing with this mess at midnight, and pull the covers over my head. After all, the little munchkins whose laundry takes precedence and whose endless trail of toys cause my bruised feet, will be up in a few short hours, at best.


Today I was reading another chapter in a book I began (at least three months ago): Francis Chan's book, "Forgotten God." It's about our neglect of the Holy Spirit in our lives as Believers; an issue that weighs heavily on my heart these days and something I'm praying for Him to change in my life.

One passage stood out at me as I read, and brought to mind my lamenting from last night:

"But consider this truly amazing fact: Because the Spirit is holy and dwells in us, our bodies are holy sanctuaries from God's vantage point. Too often we disdain our bodies as the source of sin and fallenness; yet they are precisely where God the Spirit chooses to dwell!"

Goodness! So...it's Who and what takes place in us that makes us holy. Not what "else" is there. And it's a good thing! Because my heart is often a jumbled, messy, unsightly place! It's never going to be a sanctuary on its own, not even on my best day and after a "thorough cleaning"; cause I'll just quickly mess it up again. But because of the choice God makes to dwell there, it IS holy. His beauty outshines the "clutter," like the pure, bright whiteness of snow on a sunny day blinds our eyes.

Now maybe it's far-fetched to make a comparison of this to our messy bedroom. But if nothing else, it gives me a daily reminder of the Sanctuary I need to be most concerned about. I'm so easily distracted with cleaning up the appearance - of my room, my house, my self. When what matters is what goes on there, who lives there, and what is on the inside, respectively.

Our bedroom is where my babies like to play - this hardly defiles the space. What is "clutter" to me, is the scattered pieces of what was their creative, imaginary world at a particular moment. Or the results of an incredible football play or superhero battle - not exactly good reason to be frustrated.
No, the bed is rarely made. The walls need paint touch-ups and decor. But this doesn't hinder us from loving each other well. It doesn't keep romance from happening. And it doesn't inhibit our desire for each other. It may not be a sanctuary in terms of appearance - but appearance is not what creates a sanctuary.

Sure, I still want our room to be pretty and laundry-free. I want toys to be in their designated places in the play room. But tonight, when I find a matchbox car under the covers, I can laugh and remember that it doesn't alter what matters. Just like (thankfully) God is not afraid of the "clutter" in my heart. It's the fact that He lives there that makes it holy. And it's the fact that my husband and I share this room and love - and the little ones that ransack it - that makes it our sanctuary.
Toys and all.