Newport Beach As a child, I rarely made my bed, except for when my mom made us clean our rooms. She taught us how to lay the pillow with the open end of the pillowcase toward the edge of the bed. Then we pulled each sheet and blanket up to the top one by one, smoothing out the wrinkles so the bedspread would lie neatly on top. If there were wrinkles underneath, they showed through to the top layer. Mom taught us how to pull the covers and sheets until there were no more lumps. I’m glad she took the time to do that, even though I seldom used the skill regularly until my late twenties.
Ad Douiem But now, there’s something about making the bed. I do it every morning. It makes me feel like I’m ready to start the day fresh, like I have at least one thing together. Often, I only make one half of the bed because over the years, Rollin and I have come to each make our own side of the bed. But if he has to rush out to work, I do his side, too.
I’m not sure when it became such an important piece of my day. It’s just an everyday routine, right? But I love ironing out those daily wrinkles. Then I even out the amount of sheet that hangs on either side of the bed so we’ll both start out with the same amount of covers when we go to bed, regardless of who hogged them the night before.
Maybe making the bed is representative of life. Every morning is a new opportunity to even things out, smooth out the wrinkles from the day before. It’s my fresh start, no matter how much I messed up the bed, or my life, or a particular relationship. So I make the bed every day, and feel a bit out of sorts if I don’t. I need that fresh start. Don’t you?
The faithful love of the LORD never ends!
His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
(Lamentations 3:22-23 NLT)