Sweeping and swabbing..!

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SOMETHING I’m not too fond off and I’m sure many of you share my feeling is a sneezing fit. “Hoorashuuuu..!” I sneeze and its like my whole face has been blown into bits. I feel tenderly to see whether nose is still in place and eyes haven’t popped out and then next big sneeze throws me a few inches into the air.
The culprit is generally house dust, and I wondered yesterday as I sneezed to glory where such dust could be springing from till I gently nudged big toe onto the corner of wall and floor and kicked out a spray of grime and dirt. “I thought you sweep and swab every day.” I told the maid who I could have sworn I saw going with bucket and cloth from room to room every day.
“I mop the floor,” she said. “Every bit of it.” “I don’t sweep, I only swab!” she said defiantly. “IS that so?” I shouted, furious. “Let me tell you I would prefer you sweeping first before you swab this house.”
She walked away not convinced my reasoning was right and I sat and wondered how she had worked out that just a douse of water could clean dirt away. I walked over to the piano and found underneath huge patches of dust where a broom could have reached but a mop couldn’t, under the shoe rack where a broom would have done wonders.‘ She believed a good swabbing could do the work of a good sweeping. I remember a man who decided he wanted to become a priest. He had been jilted in love and decided that following God would be better than risking a relationship with another woman.
He finished his theology and was posted to his first parish. He did an excellent job ministering to the people and was amazed at the kind of respect and reverence everybody gave to him as a priest, including young woman, divorcees and lovely widows.
It wasn’t much later that scandals broke out about his numerous flings with pretty parishioners and finally he was hauled up by his superiors and thrown out of his religious order. “What went wrong?” I asked a psychiatrist. “He did not sweep away the debris, the hurt and pain from his past before joining his new vocation,” I was told. “Without cleaning away the dirt he had poured on himself the swab water of the new job. The dust of rejection had remained caked in his mind, till every woman he met had him on a rebound.
How easy and quick to have shower without a scrub. How easy to swab without sweeping. The dirt remains. I hope she takes out broom today and pries out all the dirt and dust behind, underneath and below. I pray also we take out our brooms and brush and pries out all the hidden hurt, anger, resentment that lie hidden below our washed smiling surface. One thing I’ve learnt; the best broom is God’s broom, it sweeps with a healing touch..!
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