There were days when the very thought of getting ready for the morning...the washing, hair coiffing, and makeup painting...was enough to make me weary. Then before I'd blink, sun would set, little ones were tucked away into dreamland, and night would be fast upon me. The process would begin again....the washing, and the brushing, and the flossing. Why so much hassled effort to get ready for the day just to turn around and get ready for the night?
I pondered this puzzle for years. Until one evening, the water was running clear and my cupped hands reached up to fill with the purity that cleanses pores.
"Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."
Could this be it? Could I be engaging in a small ritual of not only physical, but spiritual washing in the morn and the eve? At night, washing away distress and and anxiety and the tarnish of the day, and in the morn, washing away the soot and dust of slumber?
Washing to prepare to meet my Lord?
For isn't it ironic that evening prayers and a surge of the Word follow evening washing?
And isn't it interesting that morning prayers and a feast in the Word follow morning cleansing?
We wash to "strip ourselves of all uncleanness," to cleanse and purify our bodies and spirits for a small entrance into His presence, for "no unclean thing can dwell with God."
The scales of darkness fall from my eyes as the water runs down my face.
And now I understand.
{This post is also linked with Raising Homemakers, Time Warp Wife, and Women Living Well}
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