Cathartic cleaning

After spending more than 12 hours cleaning, sorting through clothes, books, CDs, cosmetics (to keep, give or throw away?) yesterday, I hit the bed at the unholy hour of 1 am today with muscles throbbing and with so little strength left that all I managed to utter as a prayer was, “Lord, I am so tired. Thanks for helping me make it through this day.”

The fix-my-room bug bit me hard yesterday (and with its bite marks still visible today) that I had no choice but to let everything else take a back seat. I fell into a trance that rendered me incapable of responding to any other thought and doing any action except those in obedience to my self-imposed command. And so I dutifully followed. Now, looking around these four corners I call my room, I give myself time to write about it as a reward.

Have you ever put off doing something hard yet you know is actually good for you? For a relatively long time, I did. And then decided to tackle the task.  The proof is I in my newly-fixed, with-everything-in-its-logical place room. If you can relate to me, do you also get this feeling after you’ve accomplished your goal, “Now, why didn’t I do that sooner? I could’ve saved myself a lot of trouble.”

I said that to myself. And extended the silent monologue by admitting that I was tired (and still am actually, as my aching arms and legs remind me), but happy. It was . . . cathartic. There, that’s the word. Not an everyday word to describe such a mundane activity but so be it.

Why? Because while I was cleaning and fixing my room, I also thought about the kind of cleaning and fixing that needs to be done in my heart. How dirty my heart oftentimes get—when the cobwebs of selfishness, the stains of stubborness and marks of rebellion start to appear. The dirtyness might not be obvious to others in the same way they would notice, say, a ketchup stain on a white shirt, but I know. It might get hidden from everybody else, but in the light of careful and honest introspection,not from myself. And definitely, not God.

I’m up for another clean(s)ing session. But this time, it’s not me who will do the work. [And thank God I won't have to do it, even if by some stroke of a miracle He lets me.] Because what will take me more than a hundred eternities  to do will just take a nanosecond with Him. And what sweet relief it is to know that I don’t need to fill out a request form or write an essay detailing why I got dirty in the first place.  All I have to do is ask.

If we claim that we’re free of sin, we’re only fooling ourselves. A claim like that is errant nonsense. On the other hand, if we admit our sins—make a clean breast of them—he won’t let us down; he’ll be true to himself. He’ll forgive our sins and purge us of all wrongdoing. If we claim that we’ve never sinned, we out-and-out contradict God—make a liar out of him. A claim like that only shows off our ignorance of God. (1 John 1:8-10, The Message)