Beyond My Own Front Porch

This evening was cleaning night. Gigi was cluttered and dirty and crying to be cleaned. So I cleaned her.

But before I busted out the vacuum cleaner and Armor All, I washed the porch.

It was yellow.

A couple of weeks ago at Nana Camp, the boys and girl and I cracked open geodes. We put each unbroken geode in a sock to keep pieces from shattering into someone’s eyes or skin and then hammered the rocks until they cracked open. With deep excitement, we poured out the broken pieces of rock to see what was inside. Each geode opened differently. Some had thick outer walls. Some had thin. Some had white crystals. Some had black. Some were shiny. Some were dull. But they all were neat in their own ways. And the kids and I loved doing them.

As soon as we were finished, though, the kids and I abandoned the socks, hammers, and tiny left-over pieces of rock and came inside. I planned to clean the porch later.

Later was today. Socks, hammers, and tiny left-over pieces of rock all covered in pollen.

Chip, my across the street neighbor, was washing his porch when I walked outside to clean my car. That’s what inspired me to wash my porch.

I turned on the hose. Watched water cascade. Saw pollen flow off the hammers, left-over rock pieces, rocking chairs, and porch. And as I worked, I thought: “There are people around the world who don’t have clean water, yet I’m standing here using clean water to wash my porch.”

Then I prayed, “God forgive me when I take for granted the blessings that surround me. Forgive me when I waste and forgive me when I’m apathetic to issues of human exploitation. Help me use my blessings to help others and help me make a difference in cleaning up the world beyond my own front porch.”

Amen.