Dirty Dishes

I just taught three people to make pizza. It was a lot of fun... and made a lot of mess. I wish I had taken a picture, but I don't think to capture images until about three hours later. But trust me, there were lots of dishes. Pots, pans, plates, cutting boards, pizza paddles, mixing bowls... it seemed that half of the merchandise at Sur Le Table was on my counters.

I've cleaned my kitchen so many times; my mom and sister often laugh at the fact that I'm either cooking or cleaning up what I recently cooked every time they call me. My dirty kitchen doesn't really scare me. But today was different; this kitchen very much scared me. I wandered aimlessly, circling my island several times with no real purpose. I was moving just to feel like I was doing something, and that strategy doesn't accomplish much. I'd throw away a crumpled napkin but ignore the three right next to it. I'd rinse a dish and put it in a dishwasher that was full of clean dishes. I'd try and wipe down a counter that still had dirty plates on it. I'd put food back in the refrigerator... one item at a time. I seriously think I opened the door to the fridge a dozen times in a ninety second span.

My life was once like that. I had so much clutter and so many dirty dishes in my life, and I had no idea where to start. Which emotions do I take care of first? What wounds do I tend to before others? What relationships need to be put on the shelf and which ones should stay out for everyday use? That's a bad metaphor, but you get the idea (hopefully). I was trying to clean my kitchen on my own, but instead I just wandered, always moving and doing in the hopes that movement gave the illusion of progress.

I managed to get focused on my real kitchen but still didn't want to deal with it. Then my sweet husband came over to the sink, took over the cleaning, and sent me to the couch to sit down and read Real Simple. He does things like that. And it got me thinking...

Recently I realized that I can't do anything on my own. Not one thing. My Savior is the only one who can clean up my mess, and the crazy thing is that He wants to. He's like my husband, taking over because He knows that the best thing for me is to just let Him do it. He knows what I need, He knows who I am, and unlike my husband who just stacks the clean dishes on the counter, Jesus knows where everything goes. He's not overwhelmed by my clutter; in fact, He welcomes my weakness because it shows how strong He really is. His weakest point is still better than my strongest, and let's be honest... He doesn't have any weak points. There's no reason not to trust Him with my mess, especially when He's proven over and over and over again that He knows exactly what to do with it.

My kitchen is clean now (thanks, honey), and I'm still enjoying my Real Simple. It's full of Best of '07 lists... it can't get much better. Well, yeah it can. Remembering my Jesus in the context of clean kitchens and Real Simple is definitely better.