BECAUSE I am slightly obsessive about things having their place and needing to be in that place--I can find what I need--OK most of the time. The multiple moves have played havoc with my knowing what I tossed and what I kept and sometimes where I put it. The beauty of living in a small space--there are lots fewer places to stuff things. It becomes necessary to pear down--and stay lean and mean. This does not reek of disorder to me--why I think it sounds quite sane.
Doesn't this make you smile---all in a row by color!
Getting up in the morning and going to bed at night are done in a certain order. There is a time to brush your teeth, wash your face, and all the other necessary functions to get up or go down. By doing things in an orderly fashion, it becomes second nature and I can think of the important things in life. Having done all of this in the same routine for most of my life, even when I am in the throws of deep forgetfulness of old age---I will be able to engage automatic pilot and still get up in the morning and go to bed at night--without someone telling me how to do it.
Perhaps eating a peanut butter sandwich for lunch almost everyday of my entire life might be on the edge of a disorder. HEY, if I am home, I do not have to think about what I am having for lunch---BESIDES---I LOVE peanut butter! The silly doctor nipping my peanut butter addiction in the bud has caused a lot of disorder in my otherwise orderly life.
Hero, The Wonder Dog, has his walks three times a day--first thing in the morning, after lunch, and just before bedtime. Following this walk, he gets a treat--for performing all of his bodily functions on said walks. He is fed after the morning walk and given his joint supplement. Hero lives a well ordered life on a definite time schedule-all dependent upon me following the schedule.
I have managed to forego many of my obsessive compulsive behaviors with a little effort. My hip has required rest--and I gleefully threw exercise out the window and became obsessed with sloth. After careful consideration of my time and energies, deep cleaning the house--well in fact most cleaning of the house has become a redundant waste of time--for you see it always gets dirty again. Planting bed upon bed of flowers in a vain effort for beauty in the midst of boiling hot Texas summers has taken far too much time and the watering is a huge problem when I am flitting around. I have discovered metal flowers are quite nice and require NO care! So you see, though I love order and am obsessed with doing things in the correct manner, I have no problem--as long as it is all done correctly.
I love to laugh over my obsession with rituals in life. As funny as it all is, I do wonder why I cannot apply these same principles of order and ritual to those things of greatest importance. Why is it my time with The Father does not take greatest importance? Why it is any little distraction--I allow to come between me and time with The Father. Why am I not as obsessed with Him and my time with Him as I am about the daily rituals of little importance? Why do I allow The World to pull me away from an obsession to know Him better, a compulsion to seek Him in all things? I am seeking--seeking to be obsessed with Him.
And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord,
have not forsaken those who seek you.