Ah, Saturday. It's a day of bliss and repose for Harry (the same as Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...) but for me its a day to roll up the sleeves, plunge my hands into hot soapy water and clean- clean as though my life depended on it, clean with a vengeance, just clean!
I don't think there's any real spiritual value in cleaning house (meaning that you don't get extra credit with God), but I don't think cleaning lacks value. It lifts your spirit, sometimes, to tackle a job- such as the pots and pans in the sink- get it done, and know that you've accomplished something.
Because of the immense weight of national and international problems, you can sometimes think you have little to offer to this world. There are raging economic problems and complex political agendas and there's gaping needs in certain segments of the population and there's just plain greed and fraud in other segments. And then here I am with a messy house, a lazy dog, a world in need of such prayer, such help, that before I can even pray I feel overwhelmed, like what will my little prayers do for this big world?
And then that's when I feel like I haven't even addressed what I will do for my own little world I live in: will I clean it, at least? Can't I even try to make some order come out of the mess I sometimes live in?
Yes, I can, I tell myself soberly. I can do something about this little tiny bit of the world I live in. I can beautify it a bit, clean it up, make it cozy and warm and inviting. And if I do that, then when someone comes into my home, I might just minister to their spirit a little, calm their frazzled nerves with some hot tea and a nice chat on the couch (after pushing Harry off of it). I can do something about the world I live in. And having done something constructive about my little world, I might just sense that there's more I can do. I might believe that when I pray- when I apply myself to prayer because I believe He hears and answers them- something happens.
'Cause something just happened when I went to work, cleaning, scrubbing, rubbing. My hands went to work, yes; but my spirit started to see and believe that beauty can come out of a mess, hope can arise out of confusion, peace can come even though we live in a troubled world.