From the Hearth: Closing Shift

Routines can be hard to form. They take time to develop, time to refine, and time to implement. I have always found routines easier to manage within the workforce, but when it comes to my own home, I tend to let things slip more than I am proud to admit.

That morning routine of working out, making a healthy breakfast, and reading my Bible—all before my son gets out of bed—has gone out the window more times than I can count. Yet when I would get to work, staying organized and following my daily routine somehow felt much more natural.

Maybe you can’t relate to that, but I have a feeling most of us struggle more than we care to admit.

Managing a store came with countless routines we had to follow as a team and as individuals. If we didn’t, projects would fall through the cracks, responsibilities became unbalanced, and eventually we were setting ourselves—and one another—up for failure.

But there was one routine that could impact the entire team more than almost anything else when it was ignored: the closing shift.

When the store was improperly closed, the next morning immediately started behind. Clothing still needed to be put away. Displays needed to be straightened. Cleaning that should have happened the night before suddenly became part of the next day’s workload.

Instead of beginning the day focused and prepared, we were playing catch-up.

And I have started to realize that our homes are not all that different.

When we neglect the small things we could quickly do before “closing down for the night,” we often make the next day harder than it needs to be. The dishes wait in the sink. Shoes and backpacks stay scattered by the door. Laundry sits where it was dropped. The kitchen counter slowly disappears beneath mail, cups, and all the little things that accumulate throughout a normal day.

None of these things are disastrous on their own.

But when they pile up day after day, our home—our safe space—can slowly become another source of stress.

And sometimes that stress spills over onto the people we live with.

The idea of a “closing shift” at home is not about having a perfectly clean house every night. I certainly don’t.

It is simply about asking: What can I do tonight that will make tomorrow a little easier?

Maybe it is loading the dishwasher and wiping down the kitchen counters. Maybe it is putting the living room back together, gathering the shoes by the door, or setting out what your family will need in the morning.

Sometimes it is only ten or fifteen minutes.

But those few minutes can change the way a home feels when you wake up the next day.

Instead of immediately being greeted by yesterday’s unfinished business, you are starting with a little more breathing room.

I think that is what I used to understand so well about closing a store. We were not simply cleaning up after the day that had passed.

We were preparing the space for the day that was coming.

Maybe our homes deserve the same kind of care.

Not because they need to be perfect, but because the people living inside of them

deserve a place that supports them rather than constantly asking something from them.

So lately, I have been trying to think of my evenings a little differently.

Not as another list of chores I have to complete.

Just a small closing shift before I turn out the lights.

A few minutes to care for the home that spends every day caring for us.