Spring has sprung at our house.
Outside there are tulips, but inside there are cobwebs, clinging cat hair and corners with dust.
The sun is shining through our windows, and it’s quite revealing.
“You need one of those flower tattoos,” my husband, Bill, observed, “if you’re going to mop the kitchen floor on your hands and knees.”
I gave him “the look” and hiked up my jeans. “The reason I’m not using the mop is because down here in the light I can really see what needs to be cleaned.”
It had been a long dark winter. Spiders and dust bunnies were happy.
A quick swipe with the dust cloth, Swifter and glass cleaner had seemed to be enough in dimly lit rooms. But now, the sunlight had exposed my less-than-perfect housekeeping.
“You can help with the windows,” I called after him. Although, I wasn’t sure I needed a clearer picture of what lay before me. The dirty floor stretched on forever.
But as I pushed the bucket ahead of me and crawled into the dining room, I considered how spring cleaning left me feeling so good — exhilarated, almost. All the grit and grime that had been hiding was exposed and washed away.
The wet sponge kept rhythm with my thoughts, the spotless floor sparkling in the sunbeams.
When you’re on your knees, I mused, a thorough clean-up gets done.
I couldn’t help but wonder.
Maybe that’s why we’re asked to kneel in prayer every so often and let the Light shine in.
It’s surprising what the Son can reveal.