This week’s theme is healing.
Like many women, I spend a lot of time at my kitchen sink, cleaning dishes, preparing meals and lately, with COVID, washing my hands far more than I used to. With some of us home nearly 24/7 due to the pandemic, my kitchen sink has become an increased source of annoyance. It always seems to be filled with dirty dishes. Though most nights it’s empty and clean when I go to bed, in the morning I’m often greeted by piles of pots and pans and plates from my sons cooking at odd hours and not having the courtesy to clean up after themselves.
The view from the window over the sink isn’t much to look at. Some bushes, a fence, and the side of my neighbor’s garage. Though I’ll take the garage over the view I had before it was built, which was the window over the neighbor’s kitchen sink. It was awkward when both of us were at the sink and could see each other through the windows. They aren’t the friendliest people, so it was a blessing when they built the garage.
Drudgery is a word that comes to mind when I think of my kitchen sink. Monotonous, repetitive drudgery. Yet, as Christopher West says in his book, Love is Patient, But I’m Not, “Even drudgery can be transformed into love, and that makes all the difference.”
So I make sure to have fresh flowers on my kitchen window sill, a couple of live plants, a few stones with inspirational messages, two of which a kind neighbor gave me. I look out at the bushes and sometimes see birds. One cardinal in particular makes me smile to see him. I take satisfaction when the meal has been eaten, then dishes are washed, and the sink is clean, even knowing that later or tomorrow, it starts all over again. I use the 20 second hand washing rule as a moment to meditate, enjoying the feel of the soap and warm water floating over my hands.
Yes, even drudgery can be transformed into love, and by extension into a quiet way of healing.