So, it’s going on two months now since my dishwasher broke…in our brand new house. One would think – even I would think – with seven people in our house and occasional visitors and weekly life group that I’d have stormed out of the kitchen at least once by now as the dishes piled up again when I was too tired to mess with them. But – and my husband may correct me if I’m wrong – surprisingly I have not. I may have sighed big and loud a few times, but every time I set all the dirty dishes on the left side of the counter, lay out the drainer (not sure if that’s the proper name) my husband bought me and a towel for the overflow on the right side, and then run hot soapy water in the sink, I find myself. My real self among those food crusted plates, chocolate milk stained cups, and burnt pan bottoms. More importantly, I find Jesus is right there in my very exhausted, mundane moment.
At day’s beginning or day’s end, I find that moment to be one of sweet communion with Jesus. A time when He gives me a glimpse into His heart for me. The heat of water reminding me how He refines me, burning off the dross – the sin – in my life. The soap and rinsing, giving me a picture of Him cleansing me. Setting the dishes out to dry, reminding me how He gives me rest. Then, of course, we carry on with life and plates, glasses, and silverware get used again. Never-ending cycles that God allows us in life so that we may have our eyes opened to His love and grace and nearness.
I remember when I began writing, I was determined to love my simple life. (That was the name of the blog after all.) I had been told my whole childhood that I was destined for greatness! That usually meant something with me, a career, and money at the center. So, when I chose a life that didn’t revolve around any of that, I found myself not really knowing what to do or how to do it. But I wanted to know and I wanted to love it! I found that the simple things made me feel at home, like the “real me” – the me that wasn’t self-conscious, unable, stressed, pressured, awkward, out of place…
Little simple things catch my attention; they draw me. The first light of the morning rising out of the East, the birds singing a morning song, the wind whipping the patio umbrella, the candle light highlighting the different shades of wood in our house, the way coffee looks in a certain coffee cup, the way ink meets paper, the crinkle of familiar pages, cutting green beans and making them on the stove the way Grandma did, the familiar smells of southern style cooking, the snores of my dogs, memories that old songs bring back and dreams they also inspire.
Today is a good day to remember…
