The task of making my bed in the morning never made sense wen I was little. My parents would make me straighten out the sheets and tuck the blankets in and place the pillows just so…every morning.
When I went to college, that habit stopped. Oh, I would do make my bed about once a week when I cleaned the sheets–but that was about it. The same was true for seminary. Then I got married. This , of course, changed my bachelor ways for the better and I have grown to like a made bed.
This is critical in the desert. A made bed give some order to a crazy some what unorganized lifestyle. My schedule fluctuates daily, I never know from one day to the next when I will get up or go to bed. I have some hopes–but I never know for sure–but I always come home to a clean room and a made bed. Even when I am on a cot, it is important, for me, to straighten out my sleeping bag before I start the day.
An unmade bed contributes greatly to the attitude of my life. If it is unmade, it is because I am moving too fast or am too depressed and lazy to do this simple task. If it is made, even if I am having a long day, makes me feel if my life is ultimately in order and that I can get through this. It really is a morale thing.
So every morning, I get up, pull the sheets over, and walk out the door.