That’s a Plan!

Summer days are here again. Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie—my American dream! While anxious to escape the ice, snow storms, and claustrophobia of winter, spring came along with different kinds of storms leaving behind damaged roofs, dimpled autos, and broken windows. Now summer’s here, and I have yet to begin spring cleaning. “Better late than never!” Not sure who said that, or why.

“Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow,” is a concept I can live with. When faced with a difficult task, many other pressing needs immediately come to mind. My Mother readily detected and ‘nixed’ my procrastinating strategies.

Most friends recognize I truly am challenged in a number of areas. Years ago, I gave up spring cleaning for a religious observance, thinking a solution soon might be invented. Seems to me a person of my intelligence shouldn’t have to push a vacuum cleaner. I never thought dust and cobwebs were a sin against God, although Mother did. Physical labor has never been an area which piqued my interest.

I’m thinking, please. Baseball season won’t last forever. “Mighty Casey” will strike out soon. I’ll clean then. Not likely to be an intergalactic collapse if I wait until tomorrow. I’ll think of something.

“Maxine,” famed cartoon lady, suggests this solution: “Open ‘Housework’ file in computer. Send to Recycle Bin. Delete 'Housework' permanently.”

Now that’s a plan, but—being computer-challenged—it didn’t work for me.

Wish we could rethink this spring cleaning thing. Installing a systemic air cleaner didn’t work. Dust, dirt, and grime are still around. A “Hee-Haw” tune comes to mind, “Gloom, despair, and agony on me!!”

Another plan: set vacuum cleaner in the middle of the front room. If anyone happens by, spring cleaning will appear to be in progress. That didn’t work either.

Yet another trial balloon: get organized first; make a list. Okay, I’ll try. “1) Attic first.” (That one will be easy.) Wrong. Forgot what a “saver” I am. “This piece of junk might come in handy some day.” “Some day” has never come, but hope springs eternal.

I always wanted to be organized—sounds so cool.

Recently in the Northwest for a women’s retreat, I learned what "organized" women really are. The women’s council, consisting of about 10 wonder-women, each carrying a walkie talkie, scurried about getting things ready. I’d hear, “Calling Number Four...come in Number Four! Need to get song sheets distributed.” Then, “Number Four reporting: song sheets distributed.” And so on. Things ran so smoothly I had to change my ideas about being organized. I always thought organized folks were just too lazy to look for stuff. Wrong again. Never judge another by one’s self.

Okay, "1) Attic first" didn’t work. Proceed to "2) Basement." Oops. No basement!

I’m down to “3) Main floor.” Labor force here is limited to “Moi,” so better get started. Won’t take more than a year. Depressing! Now I understand the crowd described in “Casey at the Bat.” “No joy in Mudville, ‘organize first’ has struck out!” Could an archeological dig unearth some new plan? Please...I’m begging.

Today, incredibly, my devotional reading started with Isaiah 43:19: “See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” Is God trying to tell me something?

New hope and joy are springing up here in “Mudville.” In cleaning out debris collected and saved through our lives, I’m faced with deciding what is valuable and what is expendable. Memory is a wonderful gift from God, and remembering can be therapeutic.

Separation of “junk” and “collectibles,” probably will never end for me. But the Hibiscus and Crepe Myrtles are blooming, and summer is here. I can see that God is “making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”

Actually, my spring cleaning still isn’t complete, but I’m working on a new plan. The reading referred me to Jeremiah 29:11: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you...to give you hope and a future.’”

Wow! Now that’s a plan!

Justine Knight was raised in a parsonage and married to a Nazarene minister for more than 50 years.

Add Comment