Chaos.  Some people prefer it because it covers up a multitude of sins.  I hate it!  I hate it in the world and in the culture.  I hate it in my church, my neighborhood, my home.  But I especially hate it in my bedroom and bathroom.
All summer long I've been living with chaos in my neighborhood and, simultaneously, in my bedroom and bathroom.  It all seems to go hand in hand with a lot of other chaos in the world this summer.  Shall we get down to the nitty gritty?  Let's do it in an orderly fashion.
My bathroom.  In the process of updating and refreshing, Allan and I have been living this summer without a toilet, sink, or shower in our master bathroom.  In the middle of the night, therefore, we have been trekking down the hallway to other fixtures.  This is not a terribly big deal, but when you're accustomed to doing things in a certain place for a long period of time, there is always a possibility for chaos in the wrong corner.
My bedroom.  With the same goal of updating and refreshing our entire master bedroom, we have been living this summer out of drawers and boxes stacked here and there.  Allan and his tennis paraphernalia have been traveling in and out of Jenny's old room.  I and my comfort clothes have been traveling in and out of Nick's old room.  Sometimes there is chaos in the hallway when the happy couple bumps into each other in their comings and goings.  That's not the biggest deal either, except when one of us gets up on the wrong side of the bed.
My home.  This summer-long project began with the replacement of our upstairs windows (35-years old) and, as so often occurs, one thing led to another.  For example, a large, beautiful, one-piece shower unit doesn't fit through existing doorways, but it does fit through an existing window when the window is pulled out for replacement.  Might I declare that we took advantage of this window of opportunity?  And then we needed new matching sink and toilet, new hardware, and new coordinating countertop, paint, wallpaper, and floor covering.  Function and fashion must be friends in my home or else temporary chaos becomes permanent chaos.
My neighborhood.  All the streets in our neighborhood are being reconstructed this summer -- they're about the same age as our house -- and they're also adding curb, gutter, and stormwater as well as accommodating some replacement of municipal water and sewer lines.  It continues to be one gigantic mess and many times I've been forced to remain cooped up at home because it's impossible to drive out of here.  I don't mind too much because I know the chaos is temporary.  But when lines are accidentally cut or otherwise disabled, our conveniences become necessities, and our routine activities become emergencies, and sometimes we don't know which way is up.  Sound like chaos to you?
My church.  This summer's theme in my church has centered on whether John Kerry should be allowed to receive Holy Communion.  As one who tries to hold the faith and keep up with the facts, I believe that the candidate is a source of chaos.  Anybody with right mind and right reason understands that there are rules of law and order for membership in any organization, including churches.  If we break those rules, especially the serious ones, we shouldn't be proud of it nor claim virtue in the face of it.   Scandal and chaos are first cousins.
My culture.  For some reason I've been more upset than usual this summer about the chaos of abortion in my culture.  Maybe it's because Jenny is pregnant with her second baby, and I got to see an ultra-sound at four months.  I could count the ten fingers and ten toes of my new grand-child.  I could see the little arms and legs move.  I could see that the baby has the same profile as Miss Adeline, which is the same profile as Jenny and Christopher.  Abortion creates chaos.  It decapitates babies and tears off those arms and legs so they can be sucked out of the mother, and it terrifies me that my culture sanctions the slaughter of children and grandchild-ren.  It saddens and disappoints me that some of my own family members and friends will be voting for candidates who want to keep the atrocity legal in our society.  This is the greatest chaos of all time.  It is the ultimate terrorism.
My world.  Every time I had an extra moment to look at my world this summer, I made a point of looking up, literally.  I usually don't see chaos in the sky.  Even though it is vast and in constant motion, it appears to be still and stable.
For the first time in my life I came to see, this very summer, that the sky possesses the same grandeur as the Grand Canyon, the Rocky Mountains, Austrian Alps, Mendenhall Glacier, Niagara Falls.
It embraces and sooths me like the Caribbean, the Zeiderzee, Prince William Sound, Waikiki Beach, the South Pacific, Lake Minnetonka, Lake Michigan, the Rhine River Valley, Carver Park, the Mississippi River.
It touches me like the first bud in springtime, the first turning leaf, the first snowflake.
When all of the above are out of reach, I can still look up to the sky.  It is good to look up, not because it gets rid of the chaos, but because it points to an ordered universe and a place of perfect harmony and happiness.  If we persevere through the chaos, it can be ours!
Yes, good people, I recognize that there are far more weighty matters than the summer chaos in my bedroom and bathroom.  But I figure, as long as I'm at it, one good flush deserves another.

                                                                                      ~Sue