Little house of horrors

You'd think, since we moved past the days of dear son peeing down the vent, our house would be more habitable. 

And yet, we still discover dismaying and bewildering things, such as socks that have been soaking for days (...weeks?) in a mason jar of water, for no good reason whatsoever, stashed in the corner of someone's room.

Not to mention lesser disappointments such as a perpetually damp hand towel in the powder room, crumbs coating the floor, and Legos, Legos, all the Legos everywhere.

My ability to cope with such things wavers, but I actually let out an involuntary scream that made Caleb about jump out of his skin when I found him using the aforementioned powder room hand towel to clean the toilet. 


I had assumed they were wetting it to wash their dear little faces for dinner.

Now there is a vomiting bug going through the house.  At least now I have a good reason to be grossed out in my own home. 

My natural inclination is to sigh, mutter in my head, and complain aloud for all to hear.  And usually speak angry and/or snarky words to my children.  Indeed, what other response could there be to such things? 

But reading the prophet Malachi stopped me in my tracks this week. 


Through Malachi, the Lord details to his errant people their sins.  In a section on all they have done wrong regarding bringing the required offerings, He says,

You also say, "My, how tiresome it is!"  And you disdainfully sniff at it.

Raising children requires certain sacrifices.  These sacrifices God calls me to offer to Him with a certain posture of heart, but my heart repines and considers them tiresome.  I disdain my vocational tasks with a sniffing nose in the air, considering myself above such duties as training children and keeping house.  Yet this is how my Lord has invited me to serve Him.  

Was it tiresome that God, instead of devouring His unholy people in fire on Mount Sinai, instead provided a way for them to approach Him?  Is it tiresome that Jesus has provided, by His own blood, a way for my works to be acceptable to a holy God?  No!  It is astonishing that God accepts my sweeping crumbs off my floor as service to Himself.  How foolish to disdain any such calling.

As anyone knows, the challenge is not in cleaning up the house, but in the day-in, day-out, never-endingness of it all.  Malachi has something to say apropos of that, too:

"Your words have been arrogant against me," says the LORD.  "Yet you say, 'What have we spoken against You?'  You have said, 'It is vain to serve God; and what profit is it that we have kept His charge, and that we have walked in mourning before the LORD of hosts?'"

Believe me, I mourned when I discovered the real reason the hand towel I've been using has been damp.  I walk in mourning that my children still haven't learned wisdom or tidiness.  

How constantly does my heart say, why do I even bother??  It is vain.  What profit is it to keep trying?

God calls these arrogant words--and against Him.  Where did He ever promise daily satisfaction in our work?  What He has promised is our sanctification--more holiness, more joy, more blessed assurance--and that in the very midst of our work's thorns and thistles.