Cleaning House for Jesus

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Colossians 3:17 NIV

 

I parked in front of my friend’s apartment building and sat in in the car for a moment to gather my nerve. My friend, Judy, was recovering from a recent surgery. With Christmas just three days away, a couple of distant cousins had kindly offered to bring Christmas dinner to her apartment and celebrate the holiday with her there so she wouldn’t have to travel.

“But Ginny,” Judy had sobbed on the phone, “my apartment is a mess. I’m embarrassed to have them here.” Moved by her tears, I’d volunteered to come over and clean for her.

I regretted the offer as soon as the words left my mouth. I knew Judy’s messy house wasn’t the result of her recovery from surgery. She didn’t enjoy cleaning, and therefore she rarely did it.

I bowed my head over the steering wheel. “Lord, I’m really dreading this, but I know You love Judy, and You want me to help her. So please let me be a blessing to her, no matter how awful the place is.”

Judy met me at the door in her housecoat and slippers. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said in a voice that trembled with tears. She returned to her couch bent over, one hand pressed against the incision on her abdomen.

I glanced around the room. As I feared, the mess hadn’t accumulated in the two weeks since her surgery. Every chair held untidy piles of newspapers, junk mail, and dirty paper plates. Decorative figurines on a bookshelf were covered in a thick layer of dust. The carpet looked as if it hadn’t been vacuumed in weeks, if not months. My heart sank. What must the other rooms look like?

I pasted on a smile. “Where do you keep the trash bags?”

When I returned from the kitchen, Judy had turned on her stereo. Strains of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” filled the room. She sang along softly, careful not to strain her incision. I joined in, loudly as usual, and began to clean. When that song ended, another Christmas carol began, and then another. Judy had an extensive collection of Christmas CDs, and hours flew by with us singing together, reveling in the lyrics that tell the marvelous story of Christ’s birth.

By the time I hugged her goodbye, my heart was full of Christmas spirit and God’s love.

“Thank you so much,” Judy told me, looking around her spotless apartment. “You’ve given me the best Christmas present ever.”

I drove home with my spirits high and my heart full. I’d received an even bigger gift from God—the joy that comes from serving one of His precious children in His name.