Photo by Heidi Hess Saxton

After a long day, my husband frequently comes home from work and kicks off his shoes. Invariably he leaves them where they fall, in the middle of the living room floor, where I trip over them later that evening as I let the dog out. "Would it be possible, Sweetheart, to put your shoes by the door?" I ask every time. And every time, he agrees.

Most of the time, I just kick the shoes aside with a (barely) tolerant sigh. Then one night I looked down and saw a second pair of shoes. Christopher had lined up his own sneakers beside his father's with the same casual air of abandonment.

Calling my husband from the other room, I silently pointed to the shoes. Fortunately for him, Craig had the sense to look chagrined. “Well, I guess in the battle between nurture and nature,” he declared solemnly, “messy always wins.” Then he went back to his computer.

*Sigh.*

Now, it is said that the best way to eradicate a particular vice is to practice the corresponding virtue. In theory, I can get Mr. Messy and Messy Jr. to clean up their act by cultivating a habit of neatness.

In practice, an additional step is needed: First, they need to see the clutter. Now, I have watched my entire family negotiate a cluttered living room rug with the finesse of slalom skiers - bypassing books, papers, shoes, clothes, computer cases and food wrappers - without ever taking their eyes off the television screen. Not an item is disturbed, let alone put in its rightful place. Are they genetically incapable of bending at the waist?

Usually I just huff a bit and pick up the stuff myself. I know, this doesn’t really solve the problem - but sometimes I just get tired of belaboring the obvious.

Raising children is a messy proposition; the sheer volume of disorder can be overwhelming. Maybe that is why this weekend’s Gospel reading so resonates with me. It’s the familiar story of Mary and Martha of Bethany, who along with their younger brother Lazarus, frequently opened their home to Jesus and his followers when they were on their way to Jerusalem. (You can read the whole account in Luke 10:38-42.)

One day when she was up to her ears in fig pies and lentil stew, Martha realized that she hadn’t seen her sister in quite a while. Glancing in the common room where their guests were seated, Martha spotted Mary seated among the men, gazing with rapt attention at Jesus. Here I am, putting on dinner for 20 people - and she’s got time to relax?!

Not seeing a way to quietly signal her sister back to the kitchen, Martha enlists the help of Jesus, who does not respond as Martha had hoped. Instead he chides the older sister for missing out on the moment. Relax, Martha. Don’t worry about a thing. It’s you - not your hospitality - that matters most.

I think about this story when the chaos level gets overwhelming. Truth be told, I am most likely to gripe at my husband and yell at my kids not when they are messiest - but when we are least connected to one another. (Perhaps not surprisingly, this is also when they are least likely to respond to my requests for help.)

So instead of yelling at the kids to pick up their shoes, maybe next time I’ll ask them to put on their shoes … so we can go for a walk together.

The messies might have won the battle - but love is gonna win the war.

Heidi Hess Saxton is a contributing writer to the AnnArbor.com “parenting” channel. She is also the author of “Raising Up Mommy” and My Big Book of Catholic Bible Stories,” both available through Amazon.com or her website www.christianword.com. You can reach Heidi at heidi.hess.saxton@gmail.com.