DON'T TOUCH MY MASTERPIECE

In an attempt to drill home the significance that disicipline and organization play in good leadership, a professor in college drilled into our heads that a good leader makes his/her bed every morning.  This particular professor was known to make house calls from time to time during the semester to further emphasize his point.  It was all in good fun, of course, and the students loved the opportunity to spend time with one of their heroes.

A few weeks ago, without any prompting from my wife or I, Keziah started making her bed.  She has always been an obsessively organized child – perhaps a consequence of all the moving we have done over the years?  Everything has it’s special place and when Mia takes something that belongs to her sister, we don’t wonder whether or not Keziah is telling the truth.  More often than not, she can lead us to the very spot where she last left it and there you will find a little nook in the shape of whatever was stolen or not returned by her sister.  It’s borderline OCD, I’m afraid.   

At any rate, I have to say I was surprised at how well Keziah had made her bed – sheets tucked in, blanket perfectly square on the bed, bedspread turned down at the head of the bed, pillows situated just so.  There was even a little place for her “blanky” which was neatly folded. 

I was even more surprised the next morning when her bed was made again - just as it had been the previous morning.  Then the next day and the next day and the next.  I thought to myself, “What a good parent I amJ  Dr. Peters would be proud.  I have me a little leader here.”  This went on for about two weeks…every morning, a perfectly made bed.

One night while tucking Keziah in, I made the mistake of pulling back her covers so she could jump on in.  Without warning, she melted onto the floor and started crying.   Absolutely offended by what I had done, she erupted, “YOU MESSED UP MY BED!!!  NOW I’LL HAVE TO MAKE IT ALL OVER AGAIN!!!”  It was as if I had finger-painted on the canvas of Picasso’s greatest masterpiece.  How dare I!

I was sorta confused.  I didn’t mess up her bed.  I simply drew back the covers so she could hop inside.  I tried to explain to her that beds were made for sleeping in and that it would be just as easy for her to make her bed the following morning – after all, she had been making it for the past two weeks.  I found this tantrum strange, even for a child with anal-retentive tendencies, so I forced her to climb inside her bed.

Carefully, she lowered her head to the pillow without moving a single stuffed-animal.  Keeping her legs tight against her chest in a little ball, she laid motionless with a scowl on her face.  She refused to move a muscle.  It looked unnatural and very uncomfortable.  What is this child’s deal?  I sat at the foot of her bed and started asking questions.  Eventually, Keziah explained that she was angry at me for wrecking the bed she had worked so hard to make 2 weeks prior to that fateful evening.  “Two weeks?  What do you mean?  You made it this morning, right?”  Not exactly.  You see, Keziah had only made her bed once over the last 14 days.  All this time, she had been allowing us to tuck her in.  After we left the room, she would climb out of her bed, straighten the blankets, and then cover herself with a small blanket meant to be a toy for her teddy bear.  The next morning, all she had to do was get up, rub her hand over the wrinkles she had made in her bed, and drape teddy’s blanket over the corner of her rocking chair.  Voila – A good leader!

As I got a shower this morning, I felt like the Lord was speaking to my heart about this whole ordeal.  It’s definitely ridiculous, but is it really that foreign of a concept?  If I don’t mess up my bed, I don’t have to make it.  Plain and simple.  Sure, I won’t be as comfortable – I may get cold, or stiff from trying to lay so still.  I won’t be able to rest as well and the anxiety of trying to keep the bed beautiful may prevent me from dreaming.  But at least I won’t have made a mess, right?  When others come into my room, they will feel like they’ve entered a museum – everything perfectly in its place.   They will admire the orderly environment I’ve created. They won’t, of course, be allowed to touch anything.  Cause if they do, they might mess it up.  And if I’m not making messes, neither are you?

Sometimes I get in the habit of not living in my life just so I don’t have to mess it up.  I’d rather deal with being cold and stiff, poorly rested, and unable to dream than to jump in head first, toss and turn, and deal with the ups and downs that come along with having vision for my life.  I look like a good leader in the morning when I sleep on the surface – I’m balanced and careful and create an environment that’s orderly.  With time, it’s easy to believe that the absence of messes in my life proves I really am a good leader…that I am worthy when I am perfect.  After all, “Good leaders make their beds in the morning.”

But by that same rationale, any hint of imperfection, any struggle that exposes my humanity completely disqualifies me from leadership and from living life altogether.  Because my bed is unmade, I am unworthy.  So I find ways to live outside my life.  Above the covers.  On the surface.  My obsession with not making a mess causes me to live without taking risks.  And other people are certainly a risk.  I cannot tolerate others living in my life because they too might make a mess and then I will feel unworthy (or maybe just make them feel unworthy).  And truthfully, I’d rather not feel anything at all.  “Feeling” is also messy.  I’ve done it before and it hurt, so now that I’ve made my bed for the last time…whatever you do…Don’t – touch – my – masterpiece.

Enter the little sister.

She doesn’t care about your masterpiece.   She isn’t mean or angry.  She just isn’t afraid of messes.  She sees life as something to be lived in – used, enjoyed.  What’s the point of having a life if you can’t rest in it, dream in it, and wrestle with it till you are comfortable.  You might have a mess in the morning, but you can always make it and try again. 

Mia doesn’t sleep on top of the covers – she jumps into life…ALL THE WAY!  When she gets up in the morning, her hair is a wreck, pillows are everywhere, and her blankets are on the floor.  She will clean it up when it’s time but before she does, of course, there is something more pressing.  She needs to show Keziah something…

How to mess up HER bed!!!!

Come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about.   And you know exactly how you respond when that person climbs right up onto your masterpiece and starts jumping.  Pillows are bopping you upside the head and your blankets have become their cape.  Now your mattress is hanging out for everyone to see and there are a few stains from some accidents you had when you were less “mature” than you are now.  How will you be worthy now?  How can you lead if you have a mess?  It’s easier to focus your energy on being angry with whoever that person is who took a risk on your behalf and ripped off all the covers.  But what’s really eating away at you is that you knew what was underneath the sheets.  And now that it can be seen, you’re afraid you are disqualified.  That you are unworthy.

This morning in the shower, I remembered tucking in my little girl.  I wasn’t mad when I pulled back her covers and destroyed her bed, I was just tucking her in.  In fact, I just wanted to snuggle with her.  To bless her dreams as she fell into a deep sleep.  It’s true, I wasn’t concerned about messing up her masterpiece because to me, her value has nothing to do with how beautiful her bed looks.  Beds were meant to be slept in.  Life was meant to be lived in.  The messes that result are par for the course.  We just need to be willing to face them the next morning.

How do I respond when God wants to pull back the covers and cuddle with me?  When he wants to bless my dreams as I enter into His rest?  To what lengths will I go to cover the stains from accidents of the past where for some reason, I still feel shame?  And why am I so convinced your mattress looks any better?  But most importantly, why do I still believe that the perfection of my performance dictates my value to the Father?    

This may be bad parenting – I’m sure I’ll only know long after it’s too late – but I’ve committed myself for the next two weeks to stressing the importance of messing up one’s bed.  Knowing Keziah, this will be a traumatic experience for her at first, but I’m hoping natural kid instincts will kick in and she will start to enjoy destroying her masterpiece each evening.  But each morning, when I’ve been satisfied that her bed is absolutely in shambles, I’m gonna do what God does for us and I’m gonna help her make it.  I want to reclaim the childlike part of her heart that isn’t afraid of making messes in life - because she knows she has a Father who will help put her life back together again when she does.  Maybe I’ll learn a little something myself.

Perhaps it’s true that good leaders make their beds every morning.  But good leaders also sleep IN their beds the night before.  And good leaders encourage others to pull back the pretty covers and live in their own life without the fear of making messes.  

8 Hours Later...