I cleaned my house today. All day. From 9:00 am to 1:30 pm. I do not really look forward to cleaning my house, in fact, I put it off until my foot sticks to my kitchen floor. Several times, in several different places. Then I pull out the toilet brush. Only to find out, when I did, the entire container it was in was disgustingly filthy. Turn your stomach filthy. And so it was in all of the bathrooms. So, rather than blow it off this time, I took these containers apart and soaked them in hot water and cleaner. Hoping, by the grace of God, that they would come clean without my hands having to touch them. No such luck. So, I faced my fear of the urine and I scrubbed. I thought to myself, this is pretty much the bottom of the barrel. Not scrubbing toilets even, but scrubbing the holder of a toilet brush. Yikes. But then, I swear to God, I felt grateful. Some of you might gag at that comment. But I did. I am not lying to you. I had a thought,
God, I am just grateful to be alive in these bones to be able to do this, scrub toilet brushes. AM I A FREAK OR WHAT? Honestly, what kind of a person am I?
Tonight, I went to a
Taize service. This is a service of scripture reading, simple chants and extended periods of silence and prayer. The chancel is lit up by what seems like a million candles. Light in the darkness always gets to me. There is a part during the service where you can say your prayers out loud. My prayer was this,
A prayer of gratitude to God for knowing God's love in my bones. Then, something strange and unexpected happened. I felt ashamed for my prayer. I could feel my embarrassment on the tips of the hair on my arm. There is so much suffering in the world, how could I say a prayer of gratitude. How could feel grateful for my life? Isn't that selfish? Or wrong? As I sat there singing a song about being the Lord's servant before the service ended, I felt compelled to stand up and walk to the front of the church and get down on my knees in gratitude for my life. To be alive on this planet today felt like a simple and mysterious gift. It felt like God was behind me pushing me with His foot saying,
Get up there Jenny, what are you waiting for? Resistance moved into me like an unwelcome visitor.
No, I can't get up there, nobody else is, what if I am in the way, what if people think I am weird? A freak even? I pushed through the wall, walked up to the front and got down on my knees. I felt okay. More than okay. I felt gratitude. And I didn't feel wrong for it. Or weird. The million candles helped me.
Why does it feel wrong or weird to be full of God's love? God's love is not the fluffy sort. It is whole, strong and meant for us. My prayers are not answered when things go just my way. My prayers are answered when I remember and take the time to remember how loved I am. How loved we are. And I want to stand on the mountaintop and say,
Thank you God. Thank you for loving us so freely, every part of us. A friend in a meeting tonight was sharing about a friend who had died very unexpectedly and suddenly. He said it reminded him to Live. At the very heart of it, isn't that what we all want? Some of us just don't know how to do it.
Whether it is in really tasting your dinner, sitting in stillness, shaking your booty, commit to your heart. Whatever fills you up, commit to it. We will never turn off the monkey mind that says helpful things like,
You are wrong for being alive. But we can turn up the volume on our hearts. It is my heart that sees the beauty in the dirty toilet brush holder. It is my heart that brings me to my knees. It is my heart that tells me I am loved when 9.9 minutes, out of a 10 minute sitting meditation, is spent making my grocery list. It is about the commitment, not doing it perfectly. God is not interested in perfection. God is interested in Loving. My friend Jerome has a magnet on his fridge that says, when you leap there is a net. I am leaping with all of me now, and I, slowly but surely, am not ashamed to say it.
