No One’s Looking— Do It Anyway

Leland had a locker check this week. The teacher called it “immaculate.” I smiled—partly with pride, partly with the knowledge that the only reason it looked so pristine was because I had just cleaned it out with him the week before. Total coincidence. I'd simply gotten fed up with the mystery crumbs and loose worksheets, so we did a little spring cleaning. We didn’t know the check was coming.

Of course, he had no interest in cleaning. In fact, he was actively resistant—probably because he felt a little ashamed and probably because it just seemed too tedious. But it felt important—not just to get it done but to do it with him. I wasn’t cleaning his mess. I was modeling how to take responsibility for his own space. By the end, it wasn’t just cleaner—it was calmer. More useful. Less overwhelming. A space where he could actually find his science notebook without digging past a crumpled hoodie and three wrappers from contraband Oreos.

Stewardship, at its heart, isn’t about performing for someone else. It’s about paying attention to the spaces we’ve been entrusted with—physical, spiritual, communal—and making them ready, useful, beautiful. Not perfect. But intentional.

Our lives have “lockers,” too. Closets and calendars. Inbox folders and inner lives. Parish ministries and family relationships. Most of the time, no one’s checking. But now and then, we get a little nudge—a moment of grace or need—that reminds us to open the door, pull everything out, and see what we’ve stuffed in the back.

This is your nudge. Let’s take care of what we’ve been given. Our time. Our resources. Our parish. Not because someone’s about to peek in—but because it’s good to be ready.