I have a love/hate relationship with washing dishes.
We do not have a dishwasher in our tiny apartment. It drives me batty most days. I just want them to wash themselves.
In theory, doing the dishes is not the worst thing ever.
I just hate it. I hate the dried on food that is almost impossible to get off. I hate that my hands are wet, and I can't continue a texting conversation. I hate that even when I think I washed them all, there are always more. I hate that there isn't much room to let them dry, so a large percentage of counter top is quickly taken. I hate that my feet hurt from standing so long. I hate that I think about dirty dishes sitting in the sink when I am gone.
And now I hate that I sound like a whiny baby.
To be honest, yes I dislike the dishes, and yes, I may be a bit dramatic when it comes to housework, but for some crazy reason, it is one of the sweetest times I spend with Jesus.
He always seems to whisper into my heart when my hands are elbow deep in sudsy water.
I'm not sure why.
Maybe it is because I can't be on my phone or computer, and I have to be still. Maybe it is because He often convicts me of my ridiculous attitude, and reminds me what it means to serve. Maybe it is because He brings to remembrance what love is, and this is one way I can love my roommate. Maybe it is because He puts people on my heart, and I have the sweetest time praying for them. Maybe it is that He gently reminds me what a blessed life I lead, and how I should be thankful.
I don't know what it is, but I do know that there are still dishes that need to be washed, and I need to get over myself, and go wash them.
Have a good night.