Garbage Day and Eternal Glory
“I want to see beauty. In the ugly, in the sink, in the suffering, in the daily, in all the days before I die, the moments before I sleep.”
It had been a wonderful and rich weekend. I was at a women’s retreat with many close friends. We talked and laughed and cried and hiked and ate food that we didn’t have to cook. We also drank deeply from God’s word and prayed together. I was exhausted when I got home Saturday night but also full in my soul.
The following day we had a lovely family over for an early supper on a Sunday night. It was mid-January, cold, dark, and rainy but we had candles and warm bowls of chili, and lots more laughter.
On Monday I was, shockingly, still riding the warm fuzzies of the weekend. This is not the usual way for me and Mondays. Like most people, Mondays are the cold plunge after a weekend. Often manic, just like the song. So I braced for Monday only to be pleasantly surprised. It turned out to be a lovely, chill day.
But then Tuesday. Tuesday was the morning where one of my daughters needed to be driven to school (or the school carpool) extra early. So we were up and there was plenty of scurrying with five bodies (my husband had long since gone to work) preparing for the day. Lots of questions. Where’s this? Has anyone seen that? Pauses to give the dog a morning cuddle. Urgings from me to remind the youngest to cease from cuddling and keep getting ready. Someone called out, “Your toast is up!” The usual.
I sat down to get my shoes on when my older, dark-haired daughter, who was curled up in a chair in the corner of the living room reading her bible, said, “Hey mom. Listen to this. ‘For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.’ Wow! That’s amazing!” We locked our eyes and both slowly nodded in agreement. Amazing. But then it was time to keep moving.
My youngest daughter and I were on schedule to leave on time...maybe with a few minutes to spare?! I just had to take the extra bag of garbage out. Tuesday was also garbage day. You see we live in a big house that we share with another family. Yes, two distinct up and down units that we bought with friends. Commune? Not quite. Crazy? Kind of. The point is that with lots of people comes lots of garbage. My downstairs friends had already taken the bins to the curb but I had to take the overflow bag out of the overflow bin. I opened the sealed lid, tied the bag tight, and pulled out the big black bag. It was almost out when I saw the huge rat scrambling frantically at the bottom of the can.
How do I write crying and whimpering noises? I don’t know. But try to imagine a middle-aged lady running down the driveway making such noises while holding a big garbage bag at arm's length. More entertainment for the neighbors. They have seen a lot of shenanigans coming from our busy home.
My brows were still furrowed and my heart was still racing as I made my way back indoors. What was this? Fighting? Tears? The morning had been going so well but then there was a rat and now hurtful words were being thrown around the living room by two of my kids. My heart was hurting, my brain was reeling, and my hands were stinking.
We made it out the door and to our carpool spot on time. As I drove back home along a quiet country road I was marveling, for the thousandth time, at how we can shift so violently from loveliness and calm to rats and fights. Yuck. I felt icky inside and out. It didn’t help matters that as I arrived home, I noticed that, in my haste and in my whimpering, I had left a trail of garbage running down the driveway since the stupid rat had chewed several holes in the bag. Sigh.
I cleaned up the garbage, scrubbed my hands for the second time, and put on another coffee.
I sat in the calm of my house and tried to reorient myself. What had my daughter read to me just an hour before? “These slight momentary afflictions…” I had nodded in agreement with her and then proceeded to be dismayed by the lightest of all possible afflictions; a measly rat and and fighting kids.
The first time this verse impacted me was about 30 years ago when I read the life of Corrie ten Boom; a Dutch Christian who was sent to a concentration camp for hiding Jewish people during WWII. If you haven’t read The Hiding Place, I urge you to do so as soon as possible. The point is that, when she was clinging to the hope of this verse, she was dealing with far more than a garbage day gone awry.
As Corrie and her sister, Betsy, faced the brutality of Ravensbruck, Betsy continually reminded them of IICorinthians 4:7-18 which culminates with, “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”
But isn’t that the incredible beauty of God’s word? It can meet every need at any time and if we are able to apply it to the little things then we will also run into its shelter during the big things. You may be riding the wave of a lovely weekend but the yuck will come as sure as rats love garbage. But in the moments of hurt and broken and ugly words may we behold the beauty of our God and the rich healing power of His word.
