They were glossy. They were sparkling. They were clean.
That should say something.
The fall cleaning of my windows is something that always hangs over my head until I just do it. This year has been even worse because we now have a sixth little Graber in the house. Things like cobwebs, windows, and fall cleaning have been shoved to the back burner. Almost shoved completely off the stove.
But bless my soul, I managed to get two measly windows done. They were a bit more work than normal since Lowell stained our cedar siding this summer, and some of the stain is still on the windows. He washed them the best he could, but I’m having to use a razor blade on the windows before I wash them to get the fine mist of stain off.
One evening last week I stood before my sparkling clean windows – all two of them. And simply gazed.
And let the feeling of my beautiful, sparkling accomplishment soak all the way down to my toes.
I love clean windows! Maybe because it’s a rare occurrence around here anymore. But they make me happy. And I’ll admit to feeling a little bit proud.
That’s probably where my downfall was . . .
The next day I come around the corner to the shrine of my windows . . . and find it smudged. A very smeary smudge. My heart sank.
It was almost as if somebody had said, “Oh look! Clean windows! Let me lick my fingers and draw on them a while. Mom will like that!”
I don’t think I yelled. Not quite yelled. But buddy – almost.
My beautiful windows!! Oh my beautiful windows.
All my hardworking labor had been wiped away in an instant.
And then I had to think all these thoughts:
- What if there were no children to smudge up my sparkling windows?
- What if no sounds of laughter ever drifted through the halls?
- What would I do if there were no Legos to step on in the living room or Cheerios stuffed down into my couch cushions?
- How would I cope if it didn’t take twenty minutes to get out the door to go anywhere?
- How my heart would cry at night if I couldn’t hear the pitter-patter of little feet on the stairs.
- What if I’d never feel a warm little body snuggled up beside me in bed?
God forgive me when I whine about my messy house. I’m helping little people learn, and grow, and live for Jesus. This ol’ messy house is only going to be ashes someday anyway.
So hush you cobwebs. Go to sleep you smashed crackers.
I’ll gaze at the fingerprints on my windows and thank the Almighty One for giving me six sweet blessings from Heaven.
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