Whatsoever Wednesday Revisited

It was an undercooked oatmeal day.  We eat oatmeal at our house when we are all out of eggs.  Oatmeal is the back up breakfast.  Things aren't running on all 4 wheels if it's an oatmeal morning.  This Sunday morning the complaints were a bitter murmur: the oatmeal wasn't salty enough, sweet enough or cooked thoroughly.  That's the kind of thing that gets a day off to a bad start around here.

 

We are the host of a house church.  It's such a fact of life that we don't often think to mention it.  So Sunday morning is also a time when things need to be prepared.  Dishes need to be washed.  Communion needs to be fried.  (What? You don't fry communion at your house on Sunday morning?) Floors need to be swept.  Little girls need showers, braided hair, and clean underwear.  This morning on top of the oatmeal, the whole house desperately needed to be mopped.  Before 10 am.

This is the Whatsoever Wednesday exam.  The moment when nothing TERRIBLE has happened (undercooked oatmeal is on the border of terrible but not yet over the line), but murmuring lurks in the shadows. Every stroke of the broom brings us closer to whining.  Are we going to choose to think on noble things, pure things or sticky gray masses of tasteless oatmeal things?  Did we pass the test?

Breakfast ended with a whimper not a bang, and I began folding the mountain of laundry.   On the way through the apartment I saw my husband, broom in hand, sweeping unbidden. That reminded me to say a prayer thanking God for the good, godly man I am married to. When my prayer was done, I felt guilty for my oatmeal attitude and started to sing.  Singing is my go-to "Whatsoever" strategy.  I started with "Heavenly Sunlight," because Melissa has said it is a song that it is hard to sing with a scowl.  I managed a verse or two but soon I was back to fretting over the time and trying to figure out how I'd get a shower before worship.

However, at just that moment, from the kitchen amidst the splashes and crashes of an 11 year old doing dishes, I heard the chorus, "Heavenly SUNLIGHT, heavenly SUNLIGHT."  She had heard me, and now the joy was spreading.  Before long her sister was swinging her legs in a chair in the living room keeping me company while I mopped.  She wasn't singing in English, but trust me it was the same song.  We passed.

By the time worship started our work was done, and Satan was defeated. Their Dad led Heavenly Sunlight again for us all to sing and we all shared a special smile. We had turned our thoughts away from mumbles and murmurs, away from soap suds and messy floors, to praising our Savior for the light He sheds into our hearts.  We were reflecting on the truth of Psalms 36:9 "For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light."  With our own eyes in place, the simplest thing gone wrong, an undercooked oatmeal morning, almost turned a whole day black.  But in His light, His heavenly sunlight, we saw light.

We'll keep writing around here about the things we are reading and listening to.  We'll let you know about great blogs (my newest favorite is flightpaths.weebly.com), books and podcasts.  And we'll be doing it because it's good for us!  We hope it helps you too to fill yourself up with more of the good stuff and less of the bad!

Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE(R), Copyright(c) 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.