I have a good life.
Everything is orderly (hello, Type A) and has a place–from things that fill a space to abstract emotions and concrete thoughts–there are appropriate compartments.
It’s tidy and neat, just the way I like it.
But then I experienced Africa. 
And nothing fits anymore.
Revamping your life is hard. It’s uncomfortable.
Our family has decided to shave off the fluff, to remove some of the extra from our lives.
So, we taught our kids how to clean toilets. Confession: For the past 2 years, we’ve had our house cleaned twice a month. (It was the best 2 years). I’ve worked for my Dad’s small business for several years, while at home with my kids. It’s only a few hours a week, but I used a bit of the money to get my house cleaned. Totally justifiable since I work from home. But totally uncomfortable since I’ve returned from Africa.
You can judge me if you want to.
My daughter gagged a bit as I showed her the toilet cleaning technique. Further proof that this was good for all of us. “Why are we doing this again?” she asked. “We can sponsor more children each month if we clean it ourselves.” (sidenote: Having your house cleaned twice a month doesn’t mean you don’t clean it yourselves. It only stayed “clean” for a precious 30 minutes!)
My children took this small change in stride. They didn’t complain as we tackled room after room.
When we got to the kitchen, I carefully removed the pictures of our sponsored kids from the refrigerator, so I could clean it. (While I was in Africa, my hubby and kids moved the Compassion pictures from the box I stored them in, to the fridge.)
It was a change I loved and decided to keep.
“Mom?” my daughter said, as she wiped down the countertops. “Do you know what my dream is?”
I stopped and listened. I knew this was going to be big.
“To fill our refrigerator with pictures of sponsored kids.”
I cried.
My kids get it. They really do.
(And then they told me what they wanted in their Easter baskets. So, they sort of get it.)
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