By Allison Bucher
My husband and I recently became homeowners, and after refinishing floors, painting walls, assembling furniture, and deep cleaning just about everything, it’s finally starting to feel like home. But the thing nobody told me about being a homeowner is how much housework has to be done. Which sounds silly, but I feel like I’m constantly doing something: washing dishes, doing laundry, folding towels, taking out the trash, scooping the cat box, dusting, sweeping, vacuuming… the list could go on and on.
Don’t get me wrong, my husband does his fair share of the “chores,” and yet it still feels like we’re both constantly trying to keep up with the housework. It’s exhausting.
Before we bought a house, I always said I’d be the kind of host where the house doesn’t have to be perfect when we have company over, especially if it’s a casual visit and not an event. We do live in this space after all, and everyone has had dishes in their sink at one point or another. But lo and behold, the first few times we’ve had people over, I’ve run around the house trying to make our space look less lived-in.
“Sorry about the mess, I just didn’t have time to deep clean.”
I’d offer that line as a greeting to anyone who walked into our house. We all do it. We apologize for our messes even though we’ve spent all day cleaning, and there is no mess. I know I’m not the only one who does it, either. I’ve been offered that same greeting countless times while walking into others’ homes.
Why do we all feel the need to apologize to others about our “mess” before they even step foot in the door? Especially when we’ve spent so long cleaning that there’s no mess in sight?
I’ve found myself doing the same thing in my relationship with God. I try to deep clean before I invite Him in. I run around shoving things in drawers, sweeping messes under the rug, lighting candles. Anything to make myself seem less messy. I’ve struggled to invite God into the mess. I’ve met Him at the door and have invited Him into the front room a million times, but we don’t often go further.
But here’s the thing I’ve had to learn, and am still learning: how to let Him into the mess. Not just the front room that’s been cleaned, straightened, and Febreezed, but the junk drawers, the unkept closets, even the locked rooms that I don’t even want to go into. I’ve had to wrestle with the lie that I can only show God the most polished and presentable version of myself. Because, after all, He knows full well what’s hiding behind the closed doors.
The truth is, Jesus is the only one who shows up to the door with a broom in one hand and a bottle of cleaner in the other. He offers to wade into the mess with us and clean it up alongside us. He doesn’t judge us or make snarky comments. He simply cleans. He chats with us about our day. He folds and wipes and tidies up — willingly.
What’s most humbling is that He never asked us to tidy up before He comes. Jesus’ presence isn’t something earned by living spotless, mess-free lives. It’s a gift, freely given.
As Ephesians 2:8–9 reminds us, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.”
We don’t have to impress Him. We just have to let Him in.
It’s a good reminder that we don’t have to hide our mess. God is graceful. He is loving. And He wants to be invited in, regardless of the clutter, regardless of the chaos.
He’s not intimidated by the dirt. In fact, He’s chosen to love us right in the middle of our mess. He sees it all and stays anyway. And maybe that’s where the real transformation begins, not after the cleanup, but right there in the middle of the mess.
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