There is no joy in cleaning toilets. Absolutely. none. They are GROSS when you finally
get around to cleaning them, and they are gross again the
first time someone uses them. Absolutely gross. Like,
we-use-flimsy-paper-seat-covers-so-our-dirty-bottoms-don't-even-touch-them
gross. So what in the world does cleaning them have to do with joy?
When I had my first child, I was far from prepared to become a mother. I
hadn't planned the timing of our daughter, and, at times, I felt that
God had stolen from me a life of purpose in which I could do something
that made a difference. I mean, I was gifted and called. I could do a
lot more than just changing diapers and trying [desperately] to get this
little bundle to sleep...definitely a lot more than something as mundane and
pointless as, say, cleaning toilets.
But God, my oh so Faithful and Patient Redeemer, had a much bigger plan in mind than a fruitful season of ministry.
First, there was grace.
Overwhelming, pick-me-up-off-my-face, breath-again-fresh-air grace.
And then, when I least expected it...
Joy.
Deep, abundant, soul-quenching joy.
Slowly [painfully], but surely, He taught me how to find joy in the
littlest things: endlessly rocking a crying baby, cleaning poop off a
baby's bottom...and her clothes...and the floor, doing yet another load
of laundry. The joy of cleaning toilets. And, when I'm patient and quiet
enough to find it, it is oh, so sweet.
Now I'm a mommy of four, and I would not trade staying home with my
babies for ANY job in the world. I love it. And while I have in no way
even come close to
unlocking the key to discovering joy in all these little things, I am
learning, and I'd love for you to join me on this journey.
