I used to clean house on Saturdays. I mean really clean. Then I became a mom and a teacher, and somehow, on Saturdays, cleaning became the farthest thing from my mind... which makes me feel guilty. My husband will go into his office for half the day on Saturday, then come home to find me -- blogging, or reading, or scrapblogging. After my busy week, I seem to just collapse on Saturday.Until this past Saturday.
I cleaned.
And I found joy in it.
With my iPod playing in my ears, I listened to a song and was reminded of the wonderful life I have. I remembered to count my blessings. And I fully embraced the joy that was in my life at that very moment. Even though my week had been busy, stressful, and tiring.
You see, I had an epiphany of sorts. I was reminded of how wonderful my husband is, and how he probably changed my life more than I know. Together, we've created a home for our family. A home that deserves to be cleaned and scrubbed and shined.
This is not some "gotta have it cleaned up" perfection issue. It's just a simple act of caring for one's home. And when the floors and countertops shine, when the clothes are all clean and put away, when a fire is crackling, and the lamps cast a soft glow, I feel it.
And it's Joy!
Postscript: (Okay. Who did it? I woke up the day after writing this and found my house in a mess again. How, exactly, did that happen?!)