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The Other Room

The other day, I was zipping from room to room, executing a quick mid-week tidy-up on the house with Olympian-like exertion, minus the grace, coordination and spandex. It was one of those spontaneous flurries of activity that bursts forth from a state of mind that’s more agitated than active—one of those moments when you lift your eyes from the task at hand to face a gargantuan to-do list, towering over you like Godzilla. With Godzilla in front of you, and a little housework behind you, it’s a no-brainer which one you had rather face: the smaller dragon, of course.  So, off I went, in all the fervor and fever of productive procrastination*, cheerfully confident in the forthcoming victory over the little dragon. I was slayin’ it.

I usually spend very little time in the formal living and dining rooms, situated in the front of the house, beyond the blessed stairs, as I prefer the comfort of the breakfast table and easy chair in rooms situated in the back of the house, near the kitchen and patio. Even though the sun rises on the other side of the house, and by all Jane Austen and Downton Abbey standards, that formal living room should really be “morning room,” I’m usually somewhere else in the house. I had forgotten what happens there in the morning.

When the sun rises, shining through the beveled glass on my front door, it falls on the staircase, and the effect is breathtaking at its peak. The staircase becomes a showcase of countless prisms of multi-colored light, casting a magical light over that room. I stopped in my tracks. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. In the middle of my Martha-busy day, I had a Mary-stop-and-listen moment. In that moment, I forgot about the laundry, the dishes and the dusting. I even forgot about the Godzilla waiting for me, impatiently, still hovering and casting a massive shadow over my desk. I realized I had forgotten something vastly more important. In that moment, I recognized that there is nothing that I could possibly DO that could be more important than where I needed to BE. Instead of being madly driven to strike the next checkbox on my to-do list, I should be pursuing God’s presence.

I was suddenly in awe of His beauty, surrounded by his faithful love, opening my heart to be flooded by his mercy, just as that glorious colorful light flooded the room. I had forgotten how beautiful it was; I had forgotten, if only for a moment, to be still and know that He is God. I had forgotten that, just as sure as the sun rises every morning on that room, His mercy is new every morning, too. It was all there waiting for me—in the other room, where I rarely go because I am so busy. If you really think about—fully realize his mercy and love—it’s truly breathtaking.

At some point, we all have to get back to business and get things done. Once you’ve been there, it’s hard to tear yourself away, but remember that you’re never far from it—your secret place with God. It’s always there, waiting for you, calling to you whenever you’re frazzled, weary or overwhelmed. Don’t forget the other room.

 “For you have rescued me from death; you have kept my feet from slipping. So now I can walk in your presence, O God, in your life-giving light.” Psalms 56:13 NLT

 *productive procrastination: see blog article        
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