It is scheduled for 12:00 noon, an appointed time for the home to be judged. You clean your house, top to bottom. You know she won’t look under the kids’ beds [phew] but what about the closets? Won’t she want to see the fabulous organizers built into the closets? But then [gasp] she’ll have to see how the closets aren’t nearly as clean as the room suggests they would be. What about those smudges on the walls? The ones you rarely notice except for five minutes before this complete stranger is to walk in the house judging you, ahem, I mean, appraising your house. Wipe, wipe, wipe. Clean, clean, clean.
I am a stay at home mom, a housewife. An appraisal on my house feels far more personal than it really is. It feels like it’s an appraisal of the job I’m doing. If the house doesn’t appraise for x amount, my brain knows it is not a reflection on my housekeeping skills. And yet I still spend the entire morning working feverishly to rid my house of any misplaced toy, any splatter on the mirror, any papers on the desk. I work so hard for the worth of my home. The appraiser comes, observes, measures, and jots things down in a notebook. She remarks that we have great built in storage downstairs. She bids me good day and she leaves. Did I pass? Did my home, the place I reside and rest with my family, the structure that I try my hardest to fill with love and order and values, did she see it the way I do? Can she feel that the memories I’ve invested in this house should somehow translate into a dollar amount? No. She pulls comparables, takes note of the finishes, circles on her sheet that the home’s exterior is stucco and rock. That’s it. Cut and dry.
Fortunately everything in life isn’t cut and dry. If I appraised myself with a checklist form I know I would fall very short. Good to fellow man: yes or no? Gentle and kind: yes or no? Relies on spiritual guidance? Humble? Prayerful? Successful mother?
Each day would be full of different answers. I’m so thankful the Lord doesn’t choose one day at one specific time to fill out a checklist on me. There will always be something in the day that gets the best of me, somewhere I have failed miserably. And yet I can outweigh those shortcomings with moments of brilliant living. So that someday when it is my turn for an appraisal, the actions and memories invested in my life will be worth something far more than a dollar amount. And until that day, I will work on the worth of my soul. Wipe, wipe, wipe. Clean, clean, clean.
6 comments:
What a nice way to start my day! Thanks for the inspiration.
I'm with Heidi. Good reminder.
My dad and two brothers are appraisers. Trust me, it is NOT personal and you wouldn't believe the junk they see. Pretty funny, some of the stories. Also, the do Jackson Hole and all the celebrity homes up there. They are pretty interesting stories, as well.
You are so profound, thanks for your insights. You should write them all down and publish!
I loved this post. The amazing thing is that what the appraisers value, your kids don't- and what your kids love about being home will never be found on an appraisers check list.
I am seriously hoping you keep up the daily blogging! What do you think?
I remember how crazy I felt when we were selling our old house in Farmington. Our agent would have other agents come through at a moments notice so I had to have my house (I mean EVERY inch of my house) perfect for the prospective buyers. Every corner, closet, shelf and floorboard was in near-perfect order. I just about drove myself mad with the details. It sold in about 1 month but I got into the habit of trying to keep my house as clean as I can... just in case a realtor decides to drop in. Now you know why I am so weird about keeping my house tidy?? Oh, it might be due to my extreme OCD that I've had my entire life. maybe.
Wow, you have a talent for seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary. Can I count this as my spiritual study for the day? :)
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