I’ve heard people say things like, “God loves order,” as a reason we should strive for orderly homes. And on one hand it’s so true. As he spoke into nothingness and created a beautiful world he was delighted; it was good.
But here’s what I’ve really been struck by recently: His children messed up the beautiful home he prepared too. And it was infinitely worse than someone drawing on the garbage can while I’m scrambling around trying to get lunch on the table.
And then I find that he loves order far beyond what I do. Because instead of turning around and snapping at us, instead of killing to maintain order, he dies to reestablish it. And then he asks me to die for order too, not to sacrifice the little people in my home for it. Not just the orderliness of my living room floor, but orderliness of my heart.
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