entropy

Simply put, entropy is a real pain in the butt.

Mysteriously, a toy that had been tucked nicely away mere minutes before...now abandoned on on the floor. A hand towel, previously hung on the towel rack...now a damp heap on the bathroom counter. The snack cupboard left open, the silverware drawer pulled out. These are the details that plague my life.

"How did that get...?"
"But I just put that..."
"Where did that...?
"Why can't they just...?"

The tendency toward disorder may be evidenced more in homes like mine, where small children live. Or maybe it's more of a bane in a house full of teenagers? I'm sure college dorm rooms and bachelor pads are fine examples of entropy too, although it's doubtful that the residents could care less.

Me? I care.

It's not that I'm a neat freak. In fact, I can tend to have my little "piles" like so many people do. I'm even pretty lax about the level of cleanliness of my house, especially around the edges. But this quick reversal of my work, this seeming disrespect, could be my undoing. It makes my efforts around the house so futile, somehow. As though nobody else even gives a hoot.

But as with so many other things in life, I suspect there's a reason for entropy.

Maybe it's to keep us from becoming satisfied with our life here on earth, complacent. Or maybe to help us realize that God is the only one who can truly renew. He alone sustains, He alone makes new. And He alone brings lasting wholeness.

But for now, I walk the balance of order and ever-increasing disorder. And long for the perfection of heaven!