Jesus did my washing up

8 Nov
"None of this is mine!" I protested, waving a hand theatrically at the washing-up mountain piled next to the sink. "It can’t be, I always do mine straight away! It must have been the other three – not to point the finger, of course," I added generously, as my self-righteousness rose to shining new heights. I condemned them and decided to leave the kitchen in a mess, feeling perfectly justified in doing so. As I headed for the door, I eyed a couple of plates I might have used, slightly uneasily. And perhaps that saucepan. And some cutlery, I guess…
Upon my return I found that Jesus had done it all for me.
The saucepan, the plates, and even those guilty dishes I hadn’t owned up to; the congealed mugs I’d denied even to myself and blamed on everyone but me. Even though I’d left it overnight. Even though I hadn’t been willing to lift a finger to help the others. He had done it all. And cleaned the counter and mopped the floor – it must have taken ages. And suddenly all my pride dissolved and I deflated. I looked at him and said sorry. And thankyou. I didn’t have to explain what for. He nodded, and said he knew. And I asked if I could maybe help with the hoovering.

2 Responses to “Jesus did my washing up”

  1. MrTimUk 13/11/2007 at 10:22 pm #

    Hmm, so mugs and dishes are the modern equivalent of feet.I was pondering Phil 2 last week, God is really awesome.

  2. Charley 11/08/2008 at 10:22 pm #

    This made me smile. Miss you xx

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