Today as I went about cleaning our bedroom, the gray fuzzy coating over top of our dresser drawers spelled it out pretty clearly. It was time for a dusting. I got the rag and dusting can out from under the kitchen sink and trudged back up the steps. This is my least favorite chore.
I shook the can, sprayed the rag and then put the can down on the dresser. The tinny sound that I heard when I placed it down confirmed what I thought to be true. I was almost out of spray.
The reason this is significant is because I have never had to buy dusting spray for over 13 years--the length of time that Ross and I have been married. When we first married my co-workers bought us a basket full of cleaning supplies that included about 6 institutional-sized bottles of Pledge. Combine this with the fact that I am not an avid duster and suffice it to say that we've been covered all these years.
I feel like dusting is one of those things that you can do regularly if you want to, but if you don't who's really going to know? Especially in my bedroom. But when I stop and think about it, my husband sees the bedroom. He would know. And not dusting shows him that I don't care about him, especially since he has allergies.
This thought reminded me of the discipline of reading God's word regularly. I often fool myself into thinking that I don't need His word everyday. If I still look good on the outside, who's really going to know that I'm dusty on the inside. The answer is that God knows. And not reading his word shows Him that I don't care about Him, especially since He wrote it for me.
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. This scripture is in the Bible and speaks to what I have just written. I'll leave it to you to go get your Bible, dust it off, and find out where the verse is.
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