Why can’t I let go of this house? Why do I fret and clean all day Saturday in preparation of Sunday’s gathering?
It is 9:05 and I have been cleaning this home since 10 this morning. It wasn’t really that dirty, but each swipe of my dust rag drew my eyes to another speck of dust. At about 3 this afternoon, I realized that this old house is always going to have a disheveled appearance-it was built in 1923.
Can I live with that? Can I live with peeling paint and stained hardwood floors? Will these doors that stick always drive me crazy or will I gradually accept them for what they are-just doors?
Just doors. And just peeling paint. And just floors that need to refinished.
These imperfections in my home don’t define me, but somewhere deep inside of me I have a need to present a perfect picture.
And guess what? This old home doesn’t allow me to present a perfect picture. And that drives me crazy.
This crazy striving towards perfection is exhausting and impossible. And it drives a wedge between me and those I love dearly.
I have chosen the image of perfection over relationships. And I have given Satan the opportunity to steal the joy in preparing for the Sabbath.
The Sabbath, which is a gift from the Lord who loves all of my messy imperfections and desires to give me rest…after a full day of unnecessary cleaning.