Call me crazy, but when I take on an unpleasant/tedious task, I like the results of my great effort to last–at least for awhile. At least until I feel up to tackling that particular task once again.
I hate to clean. It’s not that I despise the actual act of cleaning so much (well, I guess I do), but that I hate the thought of scrubbing the toilet, only to have someone leave poop streaks in it 3 minutes later. So, I just don’t clean it at all.
Case in point. Our vacuum cleaner is on the blink, so I just grabbed the dust buster, bent over, and spent a few seconds swiping up anything visible on the dining room floor. I then went into the kitchen to dump the contents of the dustbuster in the trash (which I hadn’t done in weeks).
Inches from the trash can, I dropped the whole thing on the floor. Months of dirt and dust and bugs and cereal pieces and who-knows-what-else went tumbling all over the place, and clouds of dust went billowing into the air. So I had to re-dustbust all the things I had dust-busted once before.
The dishes keep getting dirty. The clothes keep needing washed (especially Nina’s!). Meals keep needing prepared. Clutter keeps appearing in every room.
But you know what? I am alive. I am healthy. My family is healthy. They are precious and beautiful and wonderful. I took a nap today. I am energized. God is good. I am His.
I am blessed.