Houseguests

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me. Revelation 3:20 (NIV)

Company’s coming. I am in cleaning mode. Normally, I live in a neat, but not spotless house. I only worry about what can be seen. I make sure that countertops are wiped and clutter kept to a minimum. It is a major accomplishment to get the trash out from under my son’s TV chair, and the litter in the rabbit cage changed twice a week. I sweep the floors because I can’t stand walking through all the sand that the dog drags in, but I rarely vacuum. I don’t bother to make beds. Just pull the covers up over the pillows. I do the laundry and put it away, though most days there is at least one pile on the floor at the foot of our bed. A chair in the hall has become my son’s dresser because he won’t take his clothes to his room, and I refuse to set foot in there. Otherwise, I might come unglued at the mess. I just keep the door shut. When houseguests arrive, my attitude changes. Then, I care about what is behind closed doors, inside of cabinets and on top of the washing machine. The pantry gets reorganized, and the junk drawer straightened. Figurines that ordinarily don’t catch my eye are inspected for dust. Even picture frames are wiped down. I throw a quilt over the old blue couch where the dog sleeps, and vacuum the area rugs. Week old milk and stale bread, considered good enough for my family, get tossed into the trash. The tablecloth on the dining table is washed and the kitchen table, normally bare, receives one as well. Last on my list is the upstairs bathroom. It is really gross, and I do not look forward to going in there, much less cleaning it. If I had known when we built our house that I would have boys, that room would have been designed differently. A gym locker room that can be hosed down with a pressure washer is what I have in mind. Three guys in my house who shave now. Imagine how many whisker hairs lie in my sinks. This morning, I sprayed the tile and tub with bleach, so it soaked all day long. Although, the house smells strongly of chemicals, it helps to make my work easier. My company probably won’t even care, but I feel self conscious about the condition of my house when I look at it through someone else’s eyes. Frequently, the state of my heart is also a mess. I am grateful that when Jesus promised to come into my heart, He did not ask me to be clean before He came inside. He came in, dirt, clutter and all. Then, he proceeded to start weeding out the junk Himself, one room at a time. He doesn’t hesitate to go back and start over when it gets dusty either. He stands at the door of your heart knocking. Invite Him in. You don’t have to clean up first!