July 31, 2013
I just spent half an hour cleaning my air conditioner. Before that I was scrubbing the tops of my bathroom cabinets. Why, you may ask? Well, partly because I have a new roommate moving in this weekend, and standing on the toilet in sports bra with bluegrass blaring at 10:00 at night is the sort of thing you need to do while you live alone. But also because I love doing it.
As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized I love to clean for the same reason I love to write: it’s an attack on chaos. See, I believe God created with purpose and precision. He brought beautiful order out of overwhelming disorder, sense from confusion. But then (too tragic for words), sin flung the entire cosmos into disarray. And now the whole world, it seems, is bent on collapsing into chaos—from children living in city dumps, to broken marriages, to persistent dust bunnies.