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It’s Monday.   The day after the weekend.

Wait, you knew that, didn’t you?

My typical cleaning day. Love to sit down at the end of the day and breath that sigh of relief that says “I did it. This house is as clean as it gets.”

But today I did not clean.

Can someone call housekeeping?

Oh, yeah. I  AM housekeeping.

God had another plan for the day.  Turned out that His plan was so fabulous. Way better than cleaning.   However, when the time did come to attempt some cleaning (which will inevitably continue tomorrow after Bible study if anyone wants to help…;) ), I had a huge decision on what to clean.  Because time was precious and I had to limit my chores, I chose…

the dirtiest part of the house – the kitchen floor.

Crazy floor hadn’t been mopped in a while…

You see, the mop got broken. (Let’s not go there… 7 kids, yada, yada)

And in spite of the thrice daily sweeping?

The floor was NOT clean.

It was, in fact, very dirty. Smeared. Sticky. Gross.

Last thing I really wanted to do, but I got down on my hands and knees

and sprayed

and scrubbed

and dried.

Until the floor shone. 

Victory is mine!   But I couldn’t help asking myself while I was scrubbing:

Girl, how awesome would it be if when you hit your knees in prayer, you immediately gave up that dirt. Just confessed those sins. The impatience. The ugliness.  The raised eyebrow in judgment.

You know. The stickiness.

The grossness.

Because as much as I’m not too crazy about the process of cleaning,

I LOVE the final result.

And as much as I procrastinate confessing sin?

I sure do LOVE the final result.  My relationship with Jesus is closer. I love Him more.

So:

if you’re thinking of calling housekeeping, guess I’m trying to remind you:

You are housekeeping.

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