DIRTY DISHES AND OTHER NASTY THINGS
So I'm washing last nite's dishes and this thought comes to me. Why don't you wash these things right after ya'll eat? My dear fastidious mother-in-law's voice echoes in my ear. Gotta love that impeccable lady! She never put off doing (til the evening news was over) one blessed thing--including the pan that shoulda been soaked overnite instead of scrubbing her fingers to the bone and using up all her elbow grease).
Not my mother-in-law. I love her. She produced the finest man this earth could possibly offer since the year 2000 a.d.
Don't have a clue how she did it. Can't pass on any advice on childrearing. I truly blew it when it comes to that. God have mercy on my children, (well, child now). :.--..(.
Back to the dishes. That overnite scum is harder to remove when it is left longer than the evening news before it's cleaned off. Before I could even begin to load rinsed dishes in my dishwasher, I had to get the potato peelings out of my (food-disposal-less) sink. Nasty. What began as a perfectly good potato, is peeled away and left discarded in a sink with no disposal unit. (other than my hands or my husband's)
And why should he sully his calloused worked-all-day fingers, anyway? He didn't leave them peelings in the sink. And he didn't even ask for the clam chowder without red-herring in it. If he'd had a choice in the matter, (which he always submits to me in kitchen matters) he woulda had beef stew. He loves beef stew. Meat is chewier...more manly...kinda like a manwich if you will).
Anyway, I got ta chasing rabbits down holes again. Sorry. (not really). But, backto the dishes.
I feel led by God to clean up them dishes. Even though I have no problem letting my husband help me, should he want to. But, personally speaking...he's got better things to do. He's working on some pretty important projects right now. His hands are needed to build some homes for some incoming soldiers. So while he would help, if I asked him to, it is totally unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of grabbing them nasty water-soaked peelings and getting them out to the compost heap where they belong.
It may take a few months for them peelings to decay and morphe into the richness of soil God intended them to be in the first place. But that's okay, I'm patient. And so are the productive earthworms that feed on that stuff come Spring. Me and them worms are gonna fix this Oklahoma hardened red-clay.
My garden is gonna produce so much more fruit than this past year. Next year it will surpass any crop anyone in my circle of friends have ever seen. It's gonna be a bumper crop.
There will be no drought. There will be no fear of hailstorms. There will be no satanic grubworms to eat away at those tender sprouts that come forth from the sower's seeds.
There will be Sunshine aplenty. And the Dew will cover my garden's earth at nite. And the baskets will overflow in an Abundance. And God will get the glory. GOD.
Emanuel. God with us, not against us. The LORD, our refuge and strength. Where the cleft of His hand hideth my soul and forsakes me not. GOD. The Lily that need not worry or toil. The Alfa and Omega who always has the last Word--no matter how many we say or print.
GOD. The everlasting everflowing Fountain where none shall ever thirst again. And the Lamb will nibble at the fruit He produced as a result of branches abiding in the Vine.
And when the Almighty Hand of God fuses His Spirit within his true Bride, there will be a wedding day like my granddaughter and her groom's list of invited guests have never seen. (check out SelahVtoday.blogspot.com--The Bridegroom Cometh) And the potato peelings will be regenerated. The dishes will be washed clean. And the scum, dregs, hay and stubble will join their place in a sewer made long before I ever moved to this house.
As to me...I could care less about who attacks me...or my friends. Cause Christ is gonna beat them keyboard-tapping swords made of human fingers into plowshares, spades and shovels. And He will be the deciding vote on any dysfunctional blog, or opinion that dares place itself in the eternal pages of God's history book.
Finally. The dishes are done. Now I can feed my face some oatmeal (for fiber, mind you), swig down some cheap no-name-brand coffee and read some Psalms to refresh my heart and soul. And that is all that matters anyway.
So I'm washing last nite's dishes and this thought comes to me. Why don't you wash these things right after ya'll eat? My dear fastidious mother-in-law's voice echoes in my ear. Gotta love that impeccable lady! She never put off doing (til the evening news was over) one blessed thing--including the pan that shoulda been soaked overnite instead of scrubbing her fingers to the bone and using up all her elbow grease).
Not my mother-in-law. I love her. She produced the finest man this earth could possibly offer since the year 2000 a.d.
Don't have a clue how she did it. Can't pass on any advice on childrearing. I truly blew it when it comes to that. God have mercy on my children, (well, child now). :.--..(.
Back to the dishes. That overnite scum is harder to remove when it is left longer than the evening news before it's cleaned off. Before I could even begin to load rinsed dishes in my dishwasher, I had to get the potato peelings out of my (food-disposal-less) sink. Nasty. What began as a perfectly good potato, is peeled away and left discarded in a sink with no disposal unit. (other than my hands or my husband's)
And why should he sully his calloused worked-all-day fingers, anyway? He didn't leave them peelings in the sink. And he didn't even ask for the clam chowder without red-herring in it. If he'd had a choice in the matter, (which he always submits to me in kitchen matters) he woulda had beef stew. He loves beef stew. Meat is chewier...more manly...kinda like a manwich if you will).
Anyway, I got ta chasing rabbits down holes again. Sorry. (not really). But, backto the dishes.
I feel led by God to clean up them dishes. Even though I have no problem letting my husband help me, should he want to. But, personally speaking...he's got better things to do. He's working on some pretty important projects right now. His hands are needed to build some homes for some incoming soldiers. So while he would help, if I asked him to, it is totally unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of grabbing them nasty water-soaked peelings and getting them out to the compost heap where they belong.
It may take a few months for them peelings to decay and morphe into the richness of soil God intended them to be in the first place. But that's okay, I'm patient. And so are the productive earthworms that feed on that stuff come Spring. Me and them worms are gonna fix this Oklahoma hardened red-clay.
My garden is gonna produce so much more fruit than this past year. Next year it will surpass any crop anyone in my circle of friends have ever seen. It's gonna be a bumper crop.
There will be no drought. There will be no fear of hailstorms. There will be no satanic grubworms to eat away at those tender sprouts that come forth from the sower's seeds.
There will be Sunshine aplenty. And the Dew will cover my garden's earth at nite. And the baskets will overflow in an Abundance. And God will get the glory. GOD.
Emanuel. God with us, not against us. The LORD, our refuge and strength. Where the cleft of His hand hideth my soul and forsakes me not. GOD. The Lily that need not worry or toil. The Alfa and Omega who always has the last Word--no matter how many we say or print.
GOD. The everlasting everflowing Fountain where none shall ever thirst again. And the Lamb will nibble at the fruit He produced as a result of branches abiding in the Vine.
And when the Almighty Hand of God fuses His Spirit within his true Bride, there will be a wedding day like my granddaughter and her groom's list of invited guests have never seen. (check out SelahVtoday.blogspot.com--The Bridegroom Cometh) And the potato peelings will be regenerated. The dishes will be washed clean. And the scum, dregs, hay and stubble will join their place in a sewer made long before I ever moved to this house.
As to me...I could care less about who attacks me...or my friends. Cause Christ is gonna beat them keyboard-tapping swords made of human fingers into plowshares, spades and shovels. And He will be the deciding vote on any dysfunctional blog, or opinion that dares place itself in the eternal pages of God's history book.
Finally. The dishes are done. Now I can feed my face some oatmeal (for fiber, mind you), swig down some cheap no-name-brand coffee and read some Psalms to refresh my heart and soul. And that is all that matters anyway.
posted by SelahV at 11:58 PM
2 Comments:
Hmmm....Selah, you've got lots of thoughts going on here. :)
I can certainly relate to leaving them dirty dishes too long.....I've done that too often. Washing dishes always seems to lead to much contemplating for me. :) I've found it to be time of blessing or cursing....LOL....and I try to make it a time of blessing more often than the other.
Oh , the garden! I'm looking forward to gardening next year too! There's another place where lots of contemplating and praying goes on for me, but I enjoy gardening soooo much more than doing the dishes. :)
Ahhhh..yes, when the Bridegroom cometh.....now that is a day I'm most looking forward too. That thought encourages me to purpose to be a blessing, whatever I'm doing, whether I like it doing it or not...asking the Lord to clean the junk out of my life (them dirty dishes) and to bless the seeds I sow (seeds to bring others to know Him) in the garden of life. And, when He comes....may my dishes be clean, and my garden be full of fruit from the seeds I planted for Him!
Thank you for a very thought provoking post Selah!
Hugs to you,
Rose
Oh sweet, Rose...You are too kind. Truly...I'm so glad the Lord used my offerings of words to bless someone in a special way. Thanks for commenting...selahV
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