I think of it every Thursday, our cleaning day. We dust and pick up and scrub down and toss out and tidy up all our creativity still in process, the necessary trail of our 10,000 hours (the legos, the wood, the paper, the nails, the books, the paints, the material, the pots and pans) and I think of words from the novel, The Diary of a Country Priest
“A parish is bound to be dirty. A whole Christian society’s a lot dirtier. …
“Some filth! Which all goes to prove, boy, that the church must needs be a sound housewife — sound and sensible. My nun wasn’t a real housewife; a real housewife knows her home isn’t a shrine.
Those are just poets’ dreams.”
So Thursdays — well, everyday — I’m learning to take a deep breath, exhale, take up the Joy Habit… and happily clean, simply accepting we are messy people, inside and out. No, this home, the church, will never be a shrine.
Those are just poets’ dreams.
Lord God, You know how a poet dreams up a house. Cause me to live knowing that You have far more creative dreams for our home….
Related:
Loving the Beautiful Mess
Make a Messy Life Art
Photo: kitchen counter’s waiting cleaning… and me seeing just a bit of art
