We clean the bowl…but do we clean our soul?

Last week I made the somewhat crude assessment that we give attention to dirty toilet bowls…but sometimes insufficient attention to our dirty souls. In the spirit of two-way conversation, I invited your feedback and now share some of the comments you submitted.

Edna wrote, “Tidy Bowl…Tidy Soul.  I like your thought…but I do not like cleaning bathrooms!”  Then she added, “Keep up the good scrubbing work—it will never be a drain on you!” (Thanks for the puns, Edna!).   And your point is  spot-on: soul cleaning is something we really DO have to “keep up.”

Cindy shared the following: “I used to hate it when I went to God to confess the same sin again and again.  I would rather wait until I had a different sin to confess, figuring He is probably tired of hearing the same thing again, anyway.  But God is not like that at all.  He is just waiting to hear from me.  It got me thinking that perhaps I should start going to Him before I commit that same sin again. The more I talk to Him like a daddy, the more I realize that I do not want to do that same sin. Instead, I just want to talk to Him.”

Wow!  Profound stuff, Cindy.  Thanks for your insights.

Russ gave this issue of soul-cleaning a creative touch composing the following poem he’s titled Soul Cleaning.  It’s a fitting way to close out this blog.

I woke early, got out of bed

Shaking a bit to clear my head

Look, oh no, dirty toilet bowl

Did I think about my dirty soul?

 

I went to the kitchen for some food

To start the day in a good mood

I ate, I washed the cereal bowl

Did I think to stop and wash my soul?

 

By noon, I’m ready for more food

I want to continue my cheery mood

I ate, I washed my salad bowl

Did I consider my dirty soul?

 

Late afternoon, time for more food

To set up for the evening mood

I ate, I washed my pasta bowl

I confess, I forgot my dirty soul.

 

Evenings here, time for snack food

To go to bed in a good mood

I snacked, I washed my snacking bowl

I must take time to wash my soul.

    —Russ Caforio