Cleaning The Crevices

Today was a day of spiritual deep cleaning. I hate these days. As if the grime on the surface of my soul weren’t enough to keep me busy for the next decade, I hate finding the sticky mud balls of imperfection in the random corners of my spirit. It’s nice to get the broom out and take care of business I suppose, but it’s a humbling and somewhat depressing process I must say. Today I learned what a poisonous droplet control can be. I discovered that some of the things I do have nothing to do with love or wanting what’s best for someone. It’s about wanting to be in control. It’s about wanting things to be neat, compartmentalized, and within my grasp. I feel sick that I’ve acted under the unknowing disguise of good intentions, but had such a noxious infection deep inside. I’ve realized that I need to step back, breathe, and let agency run its course. I can only control my actions and let’s face it, that’s a big enough job for me. It’ll take me a whole lifetime just to get through the introductory text of the self control manual. And by the time I figure out how to let the doctrine of repentance and mercy scrub off the surface goo, I might be celebrating my 90th birthday. And so I say goodnight. Thanks Heavenly Father for a day of spiritual deep cleaning. I’m not going to say it was my favorite day; we'd both know I was lying. Thanks anyway. I know I’ll be grateful in the long run.

Night.