Today I am cleaning.
And when I clean I get a little...shall we say...raunchy.
Mostly because while I clean the kitchen, there are two tiny tornadoes in the living room destroying it. And while I clean up that mess, they've moved on to their bedroom, which was already category 5 disgusting.
But, ever since I worked in a retirement home cleaning up after meal time, I have found happiness in whistling and singing the Hymns. I remember Rose sitting resolutely in her chair, smiling at me as I cleaned. "What?" I'd ask her. "It's just nice to hear your whistle while you work."
I miss Rose.
I sing, "When There's Love at Home" because it helps me remember that beating my children for their sloven ways will not make this a happy home. And frankly, they learned their sloven ways from their mother.
I sing, "There Is A Green Hill Far Away" because it's my husbands favorite hymn. It makes me think about him and about his love for our Savior. It helps me not want to hurt him for not cleaning up the burnt milk on the stove.
I sing, "I Am a Child of God" because my children always start to sing it with me, and it makes a smile appear where there once was an angry scowl. It also makes them weaken their resolve to be evil and destructive, and I can convince them to pick up a few things here and there.
I love the Hymns. I love the Spirit they bring over me when I'm in my worst mood. I love singing them in my horrible voice, and I love when my kids join in with me. It's my favorite part of church. They're my favorite songs to play on the piano. And they're just about the only things that keep me sane while cleaning after a week of being sick and lazy.