Roof raking

Rick is out clearing snow off the roof of the house

The rake looks like a small push shovel 

on the end of an extra long expandable pole

He reaches up and out, then pulls

and the pile up of snow that weighs heavy on our home 

pours down like rain

blowing in the wind

a blizzard of his own making

leaves me pondering 

how often we avoid the cleaning

how the very storms that frighten us

are the same as those that clear the path 

for a brighter coming day

I sense that God is speaking here 

and again I feel the call 

to surrender to His hand

to whatever work He chooses to do 

in me, through me, around me

refining through snow, or wind or fire

may I bow low, my only cry

"not my will, but Yours be done, Lord"

 

Spring cleaning in mid-Winter

If I could select household tasks I would choose cooking over cleaning each and every time.  But even I have a breaking point where the piles of clutter drive me to action.

This afternoon I attacked the den/study/office, sorting through stacks that contained cds and books; things I thought we had lost, magazines, and papers, piles and piles of papers.

At least 75% of the magazines and papers found a home in a fresh trash bag, destined for the burning barrel.  The rest are in single pile, waiting to be filed or discarded at Rick's discretion.

Books and cds were returned to their shelves in the livingroom.

I used to laugh at what Benjamin Franklin once said:

A place for everything and everything in its place

But now, like a deep breath, there is a sense of peace where disorder reigned.  I pray that my thoughts, scattered and random lately, would also find a place to settle.