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Every Little Thing by April Jeppson

The other day I told my friend, “You really need someone to come over and help you clean and organize your house.”

She nodded, hopeful.

Then I added, “Unfortunately, I am not that friend.”

She burst out laughing, because she knows me. This is 100% true. I like to say that I keep my house messy so that when my friends visit, they feel good about their homes. In all seriousness, I wasn’t being mean, I was being honest. Because at the very moment we were talking, my own mother was en route to my house to help me clean and declutter. Yes, that’s how bad it was. My mother was making an eight-hour round trip to sort my junk drawer. In this case, the junk drawer had spilled out into almost every room of the house.

My mom has now been here for a week, and the woman is a whirlwind. She’s been up to her elbows in closets, cupboards and corners I forgot existed. The kids join in after school, and together they’ve tackled their rooms like tiny, determined tornadoes. Out went the old school papers, the clothes that are now two sizes too small, and the toys that haven’t been played with since 2021.

One day she came home with a new shelf for my son’s room. It came in a box with lots of little pieces and a picture of what it might look like if you survive the assembly process. Without missing a beat, she told my son, “Oh, your mom can put that together, she’s good at that stuff.”

And she’s right. Give me a flat-pack project, a screwdriver, and leave me alone, and I’m in my element. The satisfaction of seeing something come together piece by piece?

That part, I can do. I loved that moment, seeing her acknowledge what I am good at, while she quietly handles what I struggle with.

Here’s the truth: I function so much better in a clutter-free space. I think most of us do. But creating that space? That’s not my strength. I used to beat myself up about it. I’d call myself lazy, unmotivated, forgetful. I’d stew in guilt, mentally tallying up all the drawers I should have cleaned and the donations I never got around to dropping off. But here’s what I’ve learned: Shame doesn’t get the laundry sorted. Asking for help does.

Instead of pretending I’ve got it all together, I’ve accepted that I have some gaps. Organization is one of them. Fortunately, my mom’s a master at it, and even more fortunately, she’s willing to share her gift. I don’t have to be great at everything. I just have to be grateful for the people who are.

So, if you’re someone who shines at folding fitted sheets or labeling bins (seriously, how do you do it?), and you’ve got a friend who’s drowning in mismatched socks and school artwork from 2017, show up. Your skills are someone else’s answered prayer. And if you’re the one drowning, ask. There’s no award for suffering silently in your clutter.

We all have our strengths. We all need support. The magic is in recognizing which is which, and being willing to show up for each other.

I love you, Momma! Thank you!

Albert Lean April Jeppson is a wife, mom, coach and encourager of dreams. Her column appears every Saturday.