Theology in the trenches: ‘It’s All Coming Back to Me Now’

Back in the day, I was mesmerized with grandma’s closets. All appeared to be in order. Coming from a larger family, our closets never quite seemed as calm. I recall opening the door to one of grandma’s organizational spaces and within it, things were placed neatly. Stacked were the magazines, the towels, the catalogues. If one was looking for something, they’d be sure to find it.

Growing up, mom had order as did I while raising our brood. However, grandma’s closets were different. They were inviting. The riff-raff of life seemed to be where it needed to be and it wasn’t in the closet. No doubt it had been tossed into the burn barrel or passed on to those in need.

Now, as I age, I get it. I have time. I have time to organize, toss, stack and restack things. When something is out of order, I find where it goes and like a honing device, I place it where it belongs. Finding a spot for stuff is fun as it allows freedom to grab that which I need without feeling overwhelmed by that which surrounds.

In other words, when one has time, one can organize. It’s sort of like hitting the refresh button.

The thinking pad reignites and is ready to launch anew. No doubt, that’s why grandma’s house always appeared so tidy. She had time and by the time I knew her, her crew was long gone. But I have a feeling, amidst the riff-raff of life, grandma’s organizational skills were keener than most as her canned goods in the basement were top notch from top to bottom. Her garden was not only planned out, but laid out just as neatly as was the table upon which she served that which she’d grown and canned and cooked.

There’s comfort in living that which we watched lived out. Her tender touch with items she owned rolled right on over to the way she treated others. Yup, grandma had things in order and now that I’m a grandma, it sort of comes out all natural like and I miss her more than ever. I suppose life is like that. We miss those who modeled that which we currently live. We caught what was taught. Subtle it was, and for this I am most grateful.

Order isn’t everything in life but I’ve heard it spoken of as a virtue. It’s a virtue that actually makes room for creativity as the busy of life ebbs and flows. It offers calming spaces which can invite minds to think more clearly and produce internal quiet.

I suppose now that I’m grandma, the quiet offers respite — only long enough for both grandpa and I to long for the messiness little people have to offer. And just when all is calm and orderly, over they come and it’s absolutely wonderful to have just the right amount of disorder so little people can be creative in their own expression of order in their disordered worlds.

I remember leaving plenty a mess for grandma to clean up back in the day—and for this, I am most grateful, too. Never did I hear a whisper of complaint from grandma, just freedom on the farm to be little children who were growing up alongside those who loved us just as we were, messes and all. And so it goes.

Jesus loves us — messes and all. Oh, it would be wonderful to have everything in order but that would be disordered thinking because in a broken world, things break. The calamity of life begets a few indentations we hadn’t planned on. Then again, I suppose his mama, Mary, hadn’t planned on watching His dents and all in bodily form take place right before her eyes. For that matter, Anne, his grandma (had she been around at the time) would have been internally disordered for a season watching her daughter’s heart pierced as she watched her son’s piercing.

No, we will never be immune from disorder, as sometimes what momentarily appears to be disordered might be exactly what He is ordering.

However, there’s a prayerful portion in Proverbs 16:9 which affirms what kind of order works best. Ordering that verse into prayer might sound like, “Lord, I’m making my plans, please order my footsteps.” May my plans be yours, Lord. May they be yours. Amen.

Kathleen Kjolhaug lives on the family homestead in northern Minnesota. She and her husband, Pete, have 12 grandchildren. As a retired reading specialist, she now enjoys writing, taking walks along gravel roads and paying attention through connection with those who matter most — each of you. She’s recently authored a 33 Day Devotional, “Wading into the Deep,” a tool intended to connect the sacred with those who matter most in each of your lives. Kathleen may be contacted via email: wemenews@gmail.com