Things were messy when our brood was younger. I think the house was tidy before the first child was born, but that was so long ago I cannot be certain. As they began to outnumber me, the clutter increased exponentially. I recall a moment when one child burst a bag of cereal in the living room just as an elderly, ornery woman arrived at the front door. I looked up at her, surrounded by Cheerios, and blushed. 

As the kids began to notice that our circumstances were sloppy, they had ideas to rectify it, which did not include participating in chores. 

"Hey, there is a really nice house! Let's move there," one suggested, as if the solution were simple. He did not seem to understand that if we bought the house, and moved in, we would bring our stuff with us. 

I watched a video on Off the Left Eye about hell. People had strong feelings about damnation, and the fate of people after death. One person argued that if God is truly loving, everyone will go to heaven. I absolutely concur that God is full of compassion, and wants everyone to live joyfully in heaven. But the thing is, we get a vote, too. 

It occurs to me that there is a similarity to our lives now. Even if God offers me the keys to a magnificent home in heaven, I will bring my stuff along. If those attributes are beautiful, all the better. But if I cannot let go of resentment, and self-pity, there is not a mansion in the skies that will hide the mess.