I spotted it as soon as I walked into work this morning - so small, so innocent, just lying there in the middle of the floor. And yet the sight of it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I knew, just knew in my heart of hearts that its amazing powers had been used for evil, and not for good, and here I was...searching for the results.
What is this tiny thing I saw?
An EMPTY tube of quickbond super glue.
At a bar.
Did I mention it was empty? As in, its' contents having been poured out?
Yeah. That was the start of a really kinda sucky day of cleaning. Add to the glue (which I later discovered had been used to glue pennies to the floor and the underside of tables...not as menacing as I thought, but then again, I may have overlooked some other wondrous feat of adhesion ) the fact that some guy jammed an entire newspaper into the toilet and then flushed, followed by many many other inebriated fellows who relieved themselves on this wadded mess.
There were half full glasses in the washrooms, (which alone grosses me out, didn't your mother tell you NEVER to take food or drink into the washroom? Seriously - I clean in, I KNOW how gross it can get) butter knives wedged between the bench seats and the wall, gum, beer bottles and the like strewn all over the place.
It's funny, it is not the worst I have ever seen, but it is the most widespread - that is, the filth extended to every possible area of the place, so instead of focusing on one truly dirty area, I had to WORK IT.
Then again, I guess that is what I get paid for, right? Right.
Have you ever seen the show "How Clean is your House"? It is a delightful piece of work where these two ladies go (invited) into someone's home while the occupants are not there, and then critique every piece of dirt they find. It is worse than it sounds though, because it seems that every home they enter is a cess-pool of disgustingness not normally known among our generation (or maybe it is more known than I thought and I am just delusional). Anyhow, they totally rip apart the owners for their laziness, then they rip apart the home and clean it all up, put it all back together and off they go.
Why I mention this is because of a message I heard while cleaning this morning (how appropriate). If you picture your life as a house, as in - the library or office would be your mind, the den or rec room would be your free time, your bedroom would be your rest time, your kitchen as the things you feed yourself, you have to ask - how clean is my house.
If you were to hear a knock at your door, and open it to find Jesus, could you confidently let him in? And not just into the foyer, that place we let strangers in, without letting them actually enter and make themselves comfortable. Could Jesus look in your closets and not find piles of garbage that you have been hiding? Could he go into your cupboards and not find them full of junk food? What is playing on your television? What books would he find on your shelves?
And here is the kicker - he would never come in unless invited, but once he is in, he is IN. As in, you must give him free reign of all areas of the home.
I think that my life has plenty of dustballs and old socks shoved under beds. I know for a fact that there are areas I would ask him not to look at (oh, that ever famous junk drawer). But I can't ask him to help me redecorate until I am ready to throw out some junk.
I can see metaphors in everything - and if my life is anything like my workplace (which it often is) I have a lot of work to do. Might as well stop complaining, and get out the mop.
My house is trashed. I'd just have lunch with Jesus on the deck or something.
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