I have a confession: I struggle with obsessive behavior when it comes to my home, and it often harms the people I love most. The condition of my home dictates my emotions and in turn has a direct impact on my relationships. I can usually trace any emotional breakdown I have back to the condition of my house. 

• Didn’t finish everything on my to-do list? The mess in my home has me paralyzed.
• That disagreement with my husband? That likely could have been avoided if the clutter wasn’t overwhelming me.
• Kids struggling with their grades? Maybe if they had a more peaceful environment to study in, they would have succeeded.

I believe it’s important to have a home that is orderly and peaceful, thus evoking feelings of safety for my children when they come home after the daily frazzle. But this past week God pulled me close to help recalibrate my heart.

Let me explain. My home had completely spiraled – Christmas decorations were still up, a mountain of full storage bins that had taken up residence in my living room six months prior were taunting me, and my children were childrening. I lost my patience more than I care to admit with unkind words slipping out during moments of frustration. And what did I do? My home became my scapegoat. That same home that I so desperately wanted to have in order because I somehow thought it would fix the emotional weight I was carrying.

After those unkind words, God gently reminded me that in my desperation to have a warm, loving, inviting home for my family, home isn’t the house – it’s me. How I make them feel. How I show up for them. What good is it if my home is picture perfect, but all my kids remember is the constant stress and tension I was under in trying to create it?

I knew a heart-felt apology was necessary to both my children. I needed to name what I had done, and instead of blaming all the things I couldn’t completely control, I had to take ownership for the word-darts I had thrown at their hearts, for how I had, quite purposely, made them feel. 

If I were to make a small edit to Angelou’s quote it would be this:

“I’ve learned that people [might] forget what you said, people [might] forget what you did, but people will [certainly] never forget how you made them feel.” 

Because, dear friends, what we say and how we say it are bricks we use to build our home.