When the day dawns and sun kisses your morning. Wipe sleep from your eyes to prepare for the task ahead. Momma slips into well worn rags decorated with bleach prints, cloth awaiting the adventure. Cleaning begins. The deep kind that scours corners, unearths dust hiding from sight, shines floors, bans clutter. Room to room, leaving a scent of fresh accomplishment. To be keeper of this treasure, my home. Dancing with well worn corn broom.
In my life, much the same. Cleaning continues. The deep kind. No longer hiding the dust that clings to unused talents. Cobwebs of fear swept away by growing faith. His Word, washing away the dinginess and stains on my heart. Each room, leaving His fresh scent. We truly are the aroma to this world. Dancing with Him and the corn broom.
Continuing to count my thanks in praise ...
20. toilets to scour that flush (living in places without, I rejoice now)
21. the smell of fresh laundry off the line
22. fingerprint smudges everywhere, wiping away I will someday miss
23. little boy treasures unearthed from secret hiding places
24. a house that almost overwhelms me to clean as His abundant blessing
25. stairs to sweep (my youngest has always dreamed of stairs)
26. bathtubs to rinse (my oldest longed for a bathtub for years on the mission field)
27. one word, a US washing machine and the memories of scrubbing boy dirt by hand
28. dust bunnies under a marriage bed
29. a corn broom handed down, perfect for dancing
30. our Bibles, all 4 dust free
31. the power of God's Word to clean away the grime of lives