Have you ever heard someone say that the inside of your house (or room, or car... any space you occupy as your own would probably do) directly reflects the inside of your mind? If not, some people say that the inside of your house directly reflects the inside of your mind. Now you have heard it. And I have been realizing lately just how true this is in my life.
My apartment was immaculate when I first moved in, and remained that way from the time I got unpacked until Jason and I broke up. Then things started going downhill. At first, it was just a jacket and a few extra pairs of shoes by the door. A plate, cup, and fork would rest rinsed in the sink, but not make it to the dishwasher.
As my stress level became higher and higher, my apartment reflected the mess in my head. A jacket turned into a week's worth of clothes on the bathroom floor. An extra pair of shoes evolved into every pair of shoes. A plate, cup, and fork morphed into a pile of dishes that surpassed the walls of the sink and slid crashing to the floor anytime you added another one (or a clumsy cat jumped on the counter).
While I was trying desperately to hold onto control of the situations I was in, my house reflected that barely contained chaos. When I lost control, the whirlwind in my head tore through every room. When I relenquished control to God, the mess began to slowly contain itself in strategically placed corners and closets. Tonight, I clean. And I am excited about the peace of mind that awaits.
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