During a recent Saturday, while I cleaning out the garage, I became increasingly more frustrated at the junk and clutter that seemly appeared out of nowhere since the last garage “cleansing,” just a couple weeks prior. My wife happened to walk through my path of aggravation while she emptied out a wastepaper basket into the garbage can.
“I cannot believe how disastrous this garage is. No matter how much I clean it, it is destroyed in a couple days,” I preached to my one-person audience, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I set the record straight.
Jen just glanced back at me with no sympathy and said, “Someday you will have your clean garage with no toys to straighten, as well as two empty boys’ bedrooms upstairs to fill with miscellaneous pieces of furniture. You’ll wish you had a dirty garage again.” Bang, the door slammed as she walked back in the house.
Touché… Silence. Just me and my broom alone in a dirty garage.
I began to think about the value of a dirty garage. You see our dirty garage is a symptom of a full life, two energetic boys, and the neighborhood kids using it as their playtime “Mecca.” Deep in thought I began to realize that much of what I deemed to be a proverbial pain in the rear was really the symptom of a blessed life.
Without waxing poetic, allow me to tell you what I mean. Those muddy shoes that are only three weeks old from Target and are sitting in the corner of the garage… Well, they got muddy because pirates were attacking the house. Neighborhood boys were dispatched to the front ditch in our lawn, that just happened to be full of rainwater, to defend to the death. (The water made the fight against those pirates all the more exciting!) Thankfully the house is safe. Oh yeah, that dent in the car?
You see a gang of heroes was riding past the car on their bikes, rushing to an intergalactic rescue. One hero, who is still learning his balance, veered a little to the left and struck the black GMC “spaceship,” leaving an indelible mark. But all’s good. The heroes prevailed and the galaxy is back to normal again. If life were full of dent-less cars, pristine shoes, and clean garages, then there would be no pirate attacks, galaxies to be saved, or little hands that “forget” to straighten up toys.
Would life really be all that great? Hmmmm, probably not. So therefore, I am thankful.
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