The International House of Crap
How a dirty garage, a dead bird, and a few good friends reminded me what really matters.
“It was dirty.”
“We went in and out of the garage fast because it smelled like something died.”
“It really just needs some TLC cleaning wise.”
Ouch!
For two weeks our house had been on the market with a handful of showings and zero offers. Then came this honest feedback from our realtor, quotes that stung like karma with a stinger and bad aim.
Deep down, my wife and I knew the house wasn’t ready. But instead of slowing down, we had plowed forward, hoping people could look past the last fifteen years of neglect, because “It was a great house!” It turned out, they couldn’t.
Our realtor took the house off the market and suggested we contact some of our friends to come help us work on the house. While we told him we’d think about it, secretly I was vehemently against it. I was more embarrassed than a mime who accidentally f@rted during a performance.
What would our friends think? “You’ve had your house on the market for two weeks and you were okay with inviting people into the International House of Crap?”
We were considering hiring a company to come in and do a deep clean before putting it on the market, but that was an expense we hadn’t budgeted. Now we felt like we couldn’t afford not to do it.
Ego takes a back seat
We had to eat a little humble pie, but after the first few bites, it began to taste like progress. We hired a mother/daughter company to come in and do the deep clean. We also hired a high school student who had a landscaping business to clean up and mulch our front flower beds.
We invited some friends and family members (who are also our friends) to come help us work on the house. Eight buddies showed up and helped us clean out our garage, pack household items we could do without, and re-stage some rooms for a better showing.
With their help, we accomplished more in four hours than my immediate family could have done in a month! (And there was a dead bird in the garage.)
Did they judge us? I don’t think so. Even if they did, their judgments would have been correct. They are truly our friends! That didn’t matter to me anymore. The way they showed their love—by helping us in such a practical and needed way—left me feeling nothing but love and gratitude for their friendship.
Back on the market
The day after the cleaning party, we dropped the price of the house a little, and our realtor put it back on the market. We had one showing that day, and two the next day.
The day after that, we received two offers on the house. Four days after our friends showed up for us we had a contract on the house.
My wife and I were elated, and we couldn’t share that news fast enough with our friends.
The relief of having a contract, with the fresh start of having a clean and organized house, was so encouraging to us, we were disappointed (but not shaken) when the couple backed out of their contract.
When will our house sell? We’re not sure. We do know that it will eventually be sold. We know we had some friends and family who breathed life into us when we were down and discouraged. That would have never happened had we not dealt with our pride.
The wisdom in the mess
It’s humbling to be seen in your mess and still be loved. The garage, the clutter, the dead bird… it wasn’t just physical. It was a reflection of the emotional and mental weight we’d been carrying for years.
And when we finally let others in, we didn’t just clean a house, we cleared space in our hearts.
What we learned is this: sometimes the mess is the message. It’s the thing that reminds us we’re human, that we need each other, and that vulnerability is not weakness—it’s the doorway to connection.
“Vulnerability is the center of shame, scarcity, fear, anxiety, and uncertainty. But it is also the birthplace of love, belonging, and joy.”
— Brené Brown
We thought we needed a clean house to sell. What we really needed was to let go of pride, accept help, and rediscover the strength of our community.
The house has not sold yet (as of the time of this writing), but something more important happened—we were reminded that we’re not alone.
And maybe that’s the real win.
What About You?
Maybe you’re sitting in your own version of a cluttered garage, overwhelmed, stuck, or quietly hoping no one notices the mess. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that if you just push through, things will magically get better.
But what if the breakthrough isn’t in doing more, but in inviting others in?
Ask yourself:
What am I trying to handle alone that I was never meant to?
Who in my life would show up for me, if only I had the courage to ask?
What would it look like to trade pride for progress, and isolation for connection?
We all have messes. But not all of us find the wisdom in them. That only happens when we stop hiding, start asking, and let love do what it does best—show up in practical, powerful ways.
So here’s the challenge:
Let someone into your mess this week.
Not to fix it for you, but to stand with you in it. You might be surprised by what gets cleaned up and what gets healed when you do.