I have written several times that I am a recovering neatness-nut. It’s a struggle.  However, wasted quality time with family and friends over the years simply because I was more interested in how my yard, car or house looked has caused me to reflect and work on changing myself.

Still, any time we have folks over, we make a valiant attempt to straighten things up to a presentable state. I used to think things had to be nearly perfect in order to have people over.  With that mentality, the desire to open your home for fun and fellowship soon goes away, and thoughts of hiding away in your messy house begins to sound appealing.

We had folks over for dinner Friday night, and everyone was called to task on Thursday and most of Friday. We picked up, dusted, vacuumed and polished.  The things that didn’t meet the Friday night deadline were hastily stacked away, pushed into closets or hidden somehow.

In the end, things looked pretty good.

As always, we enjoy having friends and family over. After they leave, we pick up a little bit with the intent on waking up to a picked-up, reasonably neat house. Indeed, for a couple of days following a get-together, our house looks pretty good.

I often wonder what would happen if we were all just painfully honest about the state of our houses and how things really appeared. What if we gave one another permission to keep things a bit disheveled from time to time. What if we declared a national “Have People Over and Don’t Care” month?

Sure, we all pick up a bit and need things reasonably neat to have a get-together. But is the furniture really that dusty?  Would people notice that the floors were only gone over quickly with a dust mop? What if we left the two little handprints on the front door glass that have been there all week.

I began thinking about those who are near and dear to us. We have had friends drop in on us from time to time, and at least two or three of them have voiced their approval of our “lived in” house. One of our friends once told us that they were relieved to see our house a little messy, worried that we actually kept our house in the state they often see when they are invited over.

Indeed, I once ran an emergency errand for some good friends and had to go to their house for them. I went into a living room and kitchen that looked as though a bomb had gone off. They had gotten ready quickly, cooking and getting some food ready to take to another get together. Their kids had gotten dressed in the living room, a pile of pajamas here and there. Toys were strewn around in happy little piles. I saw a sippy cup on its side, dripping onto the floor into a sticky little puddle. I walked away from that house with a content feeling. I also loved my friends even more.

If you were to come to my house right now, you’d see six pairs of shoes on a path from the back door to the hallway.  There is a coat hanger dangling from the dining room light fixture. The ironing board is still set up from this morning’s ironing of a son’s shirt that didn’t meet his mother’s wrinkle inspection. He left the hanger on the light fixture for some reason. Various breakfast utensils litter the counter because we would pick them up after church. There is a belt on the stairs, left by someone in a hurry to change out of their church clothes. Someone left their underwear on the floor between the dining room and the kitchen. I won’t ask. There are some thank-you notes to be finished, scattered all over the ottoman. On top of those are a bottle of nail polish, a roll of duct tape and a pair of scissors.

If you sit on our couch, our long-haired dachshund will jump up next to you. If you have light clothing on, you will have hair on your clothing when you get up. Climb up on the kitchen stool and you will see a dusty refrigerator top. The garage needs to be straightened up for the umpteenth time in order to get the car in. One of the kids just looked for a second shoe for a good 10 minutes.

This is our life, I’m afraid. I can choose to fret and fuss about it. I can worry about the disapproving stares and head shakes of those who judge us.  There are times I myself get fed up and long for order and a vacation from chaos.

However, I choose to focus on more important things today.  Our true friends will sit next to the dog and brush off his hair later.

They will look past the dust and the underwear on the floor. They like us more than they like our house. They don’t judge us or base their acceptance of us on how clean our house, yard or car is.

Still, as soon as I finish this column, I’m going to go kick that pair of underwear and a few pairs of shoes down the basement stairs.

I mean, a guy’s gotta have a little order.