I’ve never been one to enjoy cleaning.  I don’t know many people who do, actually. Well, there is my mom.  She loves to clean.  And, Victoria and Maria, 2 cleaning ladies we had at various times when with just 2 kids we thought life was too busy to keep the house clean ourselves. Those sweet ladies were the happiest women I have ever met.  They were always smiling.  They had such joy.  Maria hummed constantly, all the while cleaning up after others.

But that’s it.  Those are the only 3 I know of.  I don’t like to clean, but I love to organize.  Give me a room full of clutter and chaos, a few trash bags and a marker and I’m in my glory.  There is nothing like sorting and categorizing and simplifying. Lately however, I’ve noticed Josiah has been helping me. Without realizing it, that boy has been encouraging me to clean.

Take tonight for instance.  I know people are praying for Josiah to sleep from 9 pm each night til 7 am each morning. So, I made sure Josiah was bathed, had teeth brushed, story read and prayers said, body tucked and tent zipped all in time for that to happen. Confidently, I left him alone, certain those prayers would be answered. I went to my room to read.

At 9:30 I checked on him.  Quietly peering in his darkened room, I sensed he may be still awake.  He was calm and quiet however, so I went back to my magazine. At 10, I heard some noises coming from down the hall.  To no one but myself, I said aloud, ‘this is not going to be good”, as I rounded the bend.

Before stepping foot in Josiah’s room, a strong, foul odor stopped me in my tracks.  I’d know that smell anywhere. Though I had no interest just a few moments earlier in anything related to cleaning, suddenly, it was all I could think about.

Josiah was quickly wiped clean.  A large, very full trash bag was deposited in the trash can in the garage.  Then, Josiah was bathed and shampooed. Sheets and a pillow case and a pillow were washed in hot, scalding water.  The air in the bathroom and in Josiah’s room was freshened with Febreeze.  The half bath was cleaned, deodorized and sanitized.  The bathtub was scrubbed cleaned.

A load of towels was gathered, ready and waiting for their turn in the wash machine. Josiah’s bed received a fresh, clean mattress cover, fresh, clean sheets and a fresh, clean pillow complete with a fresh, clean pillow case. Josiah was re-prayed and re-tucked into bed, oblivious to the fact he is helping to make his mom a much stronger person.

I didn’t enjoy the cleaning, initially.  The first part was rather disgusting, truth be told. But, after the trash bag was in the trash can in the garage and my hands were scrubbed as if prepping for surgery, I actually found myself laughing.

I told Josiah what a joy he is in my life and I meant it.  I kissed his freshly scrubbed head and told him how much I loved him. I guess what it comes down to is this.  I don’t enjoy cleaning, but I certainly enjoy my sweet boy.

It’s 11:30 and Josiah is still wide awake.  I hear him bouncing in his bed right now. I’m not really sure what that kid is up to in there.   Undoubtedly, it will involve some sort of intervention on my part. I hope it does not require wiping, cleaning, scrubbing or sanitizing.  But, I’m learning.

If it does, maybe I’ll just start humming.