Today I think cleanliness is beautiful. I am NOT a neat freak. I don’t keep my room pristine or my bookshelves well organized. My laundry is always overflowing and there are always socks in my bed. My family knows that I am not the cleanest person. My friends are aware that when I come over my stuff will be everywhere. Even my dog steps over my clothes and random craft items on her way into my room. BUT I do value cleanliness.
I have spent my entire day cleaning. I started with the kitchen. My dad made breakfast. When he makes anything in the kitchen he makes a huge mess, so I am left to come behind him and control said mess before my mother has a heart attack. Then it was my room. My room took up most of today. Whenever I get around to cleaning my room I also end up rearranging the furniture. Sometimes I clean out my closet. Today I reorganized everything under my bed as well. Lastly, I cleaned the entirety of my grandparents house. They used to pay someone else to come clean their house, but nobody ever did a good enough job for them. So, seeing as how my mother trained my sister and I with high standards, we took over the job. So once a month we come over and clean the house head to toe, change the sheets and do the laundry and everything. So I’ve been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning since I woke up this morning. With just a short break for Mass.
So, why do I think it’s beautiful? Because it feels nice. I know this is strange, but if you don’t feel this way after you clean up a room or a house, something is wrong with you. It feels amazing to go to bed in clean sheets with mopped floors and dusted side tables. The cobwebs have been swiped out of the corners and the books are all back in order. Everything feels right. It’s easier to get comfortable. Cleanliness just feels nice. So I think it is beautiful. I wonder why God made cleanliness the beautiful feeling… just a simple thought.
I know I’m 35 minutes late tonight. I was cleaning. My bad. I’ll see you tomorrow! (Or today technically…)