One of my favorite shows is TLC’s Hoarders. It’s a reality show about people with obsessive compulsions who fill their homes with garbage. I know, sad. I think it’s enormously popular because there’s a terrifying thought that if we grew up with different parents, or in the wrong place, we too could be featured on Hoarders, or My 600 lb Life, or whatever hit show about domestic chaos the networks cook up next. Like drivers slowing down to see a car accident on the side of the road, we’re drawn by morbid curiosity to chaos.

After watching way too many seasons than I’d like to admit, I noticed something interesting. Every hoarder had one thing in common: tiny little pathways through the mess. They’re clear paths winding through the stacks of newspaper, tubs of empty containers, clearance craft supplies, knick-knacks, or mounds of clothes. These tiny roadways are just enough to make the mess work, to get by and get on with the day. Encased within their homes, the hoarder shuffles about, walking tiny trails paved with the hope that there’s something civilized left. But they’re lying to themselves. 

It’s fascinating how hoarders use these little pathways to justify their compulsions. “See,” they claim, “my collecting got a little out of hand, but I can move around the house just fine.” But we know the truth; those little paths aren’t fooling anyone. Like me, you’re probably not a hoarder. But if we’re honest, we also use little paths to justify the chaos in our own lives. Pathways can provide an illusion of order to what is really well-managed chaos. Everyone has a bit of chaos, some just hide it better.

Meet Savannah 

With bright eyes and a wide smile, Savannah steps into the room. I instantly feel my mood lighten. She has that effect on people. Naturally high energy, she’s a college student working full time as a waitress and at the same time building her own photography business. She’s gritty and displays a ferocious work ethic that I’m seeing more and more in the young women her age. Savannah grew up in a chaotic home where she had to grow up fast. I recently sat down with her to learn more about the source of her tenacious nature.

Savannah: I’m pretty sure I moved 13 times in 18 locations before graduation. 

Julie: That’s crazy. How’d this happen?

Savannah: Well, when I was a kid, my parents divorced. And we had to switch housing between parents. Then there was a time where things weren’t going well for them, so my brother and I were put in foster care with my grandma. We went back to live with my parents, who remarried other people, but then divorced again, and during the rough times we went back to live with my grandma. It’s kind of a hard, crazy timeline to follow.  

Savannah was right. The timeline felt more like being stuck in a roundabout. All that moving that speaks of broken goodbyes and hesitant hellos. Packing up to the destination somewhere. Adjusting to new stepparents. Leaving good friends. Stabilizing while watching parents hurt. Hearing moments of slammed doors, screaming insults, or the silent denial of walking out. Her family tree grew with both broken and grafted branches.  How could she call any place home? 

Julie: So how did you find stability?

Savannah: My grandma was everything to me. She’s my role model. She taught me all the good that I needed to survive. She was such a spiritual influence and encouraged my family to go to church. But as much as my grandma advised, it took time to follow it. You know with all messiness at home, I wanted to escape it, be accepted, so I hung around those that accepted me. It didn’t’ matter who. I just wanted to fill a void with friends. They just weren’t good people.  

Julie: You were apart of youth ministry, I directed you in dramas, you had church friends, why did you remain on the outskirts?

Savannah: I was embarrassed. I hid my emotions. It felt like everyone at church came from happy homes with parents who loved each other but me. I was angry and diagnosed with anxiety and depression. You know it’s hard to be around people who complain with parents who bought them everything; meanwhile, I was working at Burger King at 16.

Chaos Gets Old

Julie: That’s very understandable when you’re surviving through discord, you can feel alone within social pressure. When did things start to change? 

Savannah: Unexpectedly, my grandma passed away. I was devastated. But as painful as losing my grandma, I think rejecting what she wanted for me was worse. So I started to break away from the bad influences, and commit to what she taught. And with time, I develop a relationship with God. 

Months later Savannah joined a missions trip to New York in partnership with Teen Challenge, a faith-based rehab program. There, she met those who knew chaos well but were filled with immense joy. Once, women pitched to the streets with bodies riddled with the drug abuse. But then, they met Jesus.  Jesus, who makes all things new. Savannah knew that if Jesus restored them, there’s a dynamic hope for her future.

Cleaning Up The Clutter

Julie: So these two major experiences helped launch your steadfast commitment to Christ. 

Savannah: Yes, but still had hardships. I mean, sometime after the trip, my dad’s marriage fell apart and ended in divorce. From that marriage, I had half-siblings, and it all got messy, but I didn’t get bitter. I leaned into Jesus. It sounds simple, but it worked. 

Julie: It seems like so much of clutter you’ve had to sift through was out of your control, how have you not gotten bitter?

Savannah: My Grandma didn’t come from an easy life, so she showed me what forgiveness looks like. She taught me to try to see life through another person’s eyes. So with time, I started seeing my parents with sympathy. They didn’t have easy lives. They tried their best with what they were given. There’s just a big picture of all of this, and pettiness won’t help. 

Julie: As you move forward, what advice would you give to another girl in a similar circumstance?

Savannah: Know that you’re not trapped. Look to good marriages as a source of wisdom. Stay in God’s word. If something bad happens, try to learn from it, and use pain to make you better. It can redirect you back to God. If you do that, you’ll find there’s peace within the pain. 

Listening to Savannah’s wisdom, I am in awe. Her maturity is beyond her years. There’s joy in her eyes because she knows her purpose and isn’t scared to chase after it. 

So many come from squeaky-clean homes but live messy lives. They might have a shiplap sign saying, “LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE”- but there’s no trace of it. Chaos isn’t about cleanliness- it’s rooted in the mind. The floors might shine, but there are pathways winding through Dad’s depression, mom’s rage, or a brother’s addiction. And whatever they refuse to let go destroys them. 

Out of Egypt

Savannah reminds me of another person who lived under extreme generational failure, a man named Joshua from the Old Testament. The generations before were Egyptian slaves that suffered generation after generation of physical, emotional, and spiritual abuse at the hands of their wicked owners. You probably saw the Spielberg film Prince of Egypt, the epic walls of water, the Dove Award-winning soundtrack You know the story. But I have a theory that when Moses led the Hebrew nation out of Egypt, they dragged that slave mindset right along with them into the desert. 

The movie ends at the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea, but for the Hebrews, the real struggle was just beginning. The former slaves chafed at their newfound freedom. In Egypt, life was miserable but predictable. They hated their meager rations under slavery, but they could always count on it. They feared the regular beatings, but at least they were regular. Cowering under the cruel gaze of the godlike Pharaoh was horrible, but at least he didn’t float mysteriously above them in the clouds.

In The Desert

So in an effort to cope, the Hebrews brought their jails with them. Much like a prison cell, the desert became brutal, but a very organized place. Manna collection in the morning, cook the doves in the afternoon, evening prayers, sweep the sand out of the bed and go to sleep, wake up and start all over. For forty years, two million people wandered around the desert-like clockwork toy soldiers. 

Physically, the Hebrew people were organized, but their minds were infected with chaos. The slave mentality never left. Anger, bitterness, contempt all made sure these former slaves never took responsibility for their lives. And God would not let that mental chaos infect the following generations and pour into the Promised Land. The only solution to this mind disease the Egyptian captivity had spawned was quarantine. 

I think a lot of people don’t understand this part of the story. In Sunday School, we’re told that God didn’t let them into the Promised Land because they complained too much. No, the real reason God let an entire generation die wandering in a desert, was to purge the poisonous worldviews from His chosen people. To save the body, he amputated the infection. It was the next generation that would walk into the Promised Land. The next generation, and Joshua.

A New Generation 

God selected Joshua to become the leader of the Hebrew people and lead them into the Promised Land. This new generation had never known slavery. They knew hard work and toiling in the desert. It was drudgery and boring, but there was no hint of the mental infection from the previous generation. 

Joshua, like Savannah, represents a bridge between chaos and order. Whenever a generation changes, there’s always someone who has to be brave enough to reject the old ways and do the hard work to start new ways. It’s not glamorous or fun, but without this important work, the next generation will descend into the same fungal rot of chaos that plagued the previous generations. Savannah told me that her parents suffered, her grandma suffered, and I’m willing to bet the previous generations before suffered in chaos too. We could probably trace it back for generations. But what would be the point? To finally have someone to blame? Someone has to finally put his or her foot down and say, “No more, it ends here.” 

Savannah, like Joshua, is standing in the gap between chaos and order. She’s creating a life of order for her future descendants. The generations to follow will never know the fear of homelessness, hear the screams of a melting marriage, deal with drugs, or the cruel hands of abuse. With Christ’s help, she is making all things new. 

Maybe you grew up in chaos, maybe you’re in chaos right now. If Savannah can do it, and Joshua and countless others can do it—then so can you. It’s a slow, embarrassing, and honestly kind of boring process. Chaos is great fun, at least for a season, the order can be pretty lame. But the peace that comes from deep order fills your life up. The hardest part is leaving slavery, and the easiest way to do that is to learn freedom in the true Master of freedom. The one who loves you more than you love yourself. Jesus. Jesus has always been the antidote to chaos. That’s why he’s called The Way. 

To get to the Promised Land they had to cross one more body of water. And as Joshua led a new generation across the gap from chaos into order, he made a promise. A declaration that would purge the infection of chaos, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”