For years I have wished we were able to hire someone to come clean my house and do my laundry. I have looked at the finances, tried to figure out what we could cut out to be able to swing this. Needless to say, it’s not an option for us unless I tell my girls and hubby they have to give up food for a couple of days—not sure that will go over well.
My house will never be the cleanest on the block—it also won’t be gross, but chances are, if you drop by unexpectedly, you’ll find lots of clutter everywhere you look. I’ve tried to instill it in my girls to pick up their stuff. And that if they choose to use the living room as their dressing room, they need to take their socks and shorts--and whatever other clothing they think looks nice laying on the floor or ottoman-- back to their dirty clothes hamper (do you sense any frustration with this last one?). And as much as I know it would be easier to load the dishwasher after dinner, I still let the dishes sit overnight because I'm too lazy to clean them.
Honestly, we’re messy. I do good to clean the toilets every couple of weeks—let alone scrub the shower scum. Cleaning doesn’t make me feel better. I’ll tell you a secret—as long as I don’t trip on it or smell it, I’m comfortable in an unkempt house. You can imagine how well that goes over with Brian.
As if that’s not enough to make you wonder if you really want to claim to know me, I’m gonna show my shallow side here--I’ve even prayed for God to provide a way for us to pay for someone to clean (some people pray for food for hungry kids in Africa, or shoes for people in India or salvation for those who don’t know Him—Me? A maid).
And I thought His answer was, “No.” Until this week.
Two-three days a week, my mother-in-law picks up my girls from school and stays with them until Brian or I get home from work. And while they are doing homework, she loads my dishwasher, empties my overflowing bathroom trashcans, pulls weeds in the front yard, and scrubs my shower scum. And, when our washing machine worked, she always did a couple loads of laundry (now she just takes a few things home with her every time).
Since your view of me is already pretty low, let me just go ahead and confess something else. Until recently, her doing all that really frustrated me. I felt like it was a reflection on what a bad wife and mom I was (because we all know that we should be able to bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and clean up the mess afterward). My insecurity kept me from seeing the answered prayer and huge blessing God had given me. Instead, I chose to resent her willingness to do these things.
I wonder how many other things I do that with? How many times do I pray for things and think God chose not to give them to me, when the truth is, He gave them to me—just not in the way I expected or even wanted? How many times does He give me blessings that I don’t think I want? How many times do I complain about something that I am not seeing as a blessing?
Some good stuff for me to ponder on this weekend…