If God Had A Job
On the God Who Washes What We Cannot
If God had a job, I’d bet most would say it would be a lawyer or a doctor.
Those are good; he is known as a defender and healer, but I think there’s something that would better describe him.
He’d be a launderer.
A rather seemingly unimportant job but only completed by an expert. He would have a simple laundromat in a quiet corner, probably colored beige. And outside there would be a large ad with big, bold letters that claimed,
“NO STAIN TOO DIFFICULT TO CLEAN”.
If I walked in full of dirt and stains, I’m sure he’d greet me with a smile on his face. He’d probably have the same kind of warm greeting for everyone who walked in. Like a favorite grandfather waiting to be visited, he’d say, “I’m so glad you came.”
Knowing myself, I’d probably begin to explain my mess to him, “I tried everything I could to get it out.” But without hesitation, he’d grab the basket from me. With a grin, he’d confidently reply, “Don’t worry, I can get it out.”
“Why don’t you change out of what you have on too,” he’d offer, handing me new clothes far better than the ones I had on before. Clean and fresh clothing, as if washing the stains required no effort or skill at all.
But looking at the clothes he offers would only remind me of how unclean I seem to always be. “I’m such a messy person, I won’t keep those things clean,” I’d say, returning the clothes he gave me, “I try my best, I really do, but I still always wind up dirty.”
“In fact,” when I realized how disgusting my basket of clothes was, I’d say, “My mess is far too big of a mess. I should have known better. You don’t want someone like me, someone this unclean, coming here. I’ll just take my things back.”
I’m confident this kind of explanation would make him chuckle, “Have you forgotten who I am? Do you know where you are?”
With compassion, he’d hold my hand and tell me, “Sweet friend, I didn’t give you clean clothes to keep them clean. I give them to you because I am very good at cleaning. If you ask, I can show you how to be cleaner or how to avoid certain messes, but I would never expect you to come here in clean clothes.
That is my job.
To take away your dirtiness.”
Without having to feel shame for all the stains that I have, he’d go on washing with a smile on his face. He’d hug me like an old friend and remind me, “I can’t wait to see you again.”
And I’d wear the new clothes out so proudly, excited to share with everyone where they came from.
Surely, if God had a job, he’d be a launderer. Skilled and devoted to what he does.
And when I’d go to the laundromat again, it wouldn’t be just to clean my clothes, but to see a good friend.
About the Creator
Stephanie Rosas
just your average writer writing about stuff.
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Sunflower
It’s my fault. I let you take too much of time, too many emotions, too many tears, too much of me. I gave it all to you claiming it was heartache that I still needed to grieve. That the greatest love story wasn’t made and I clung to the hope that one day it would be. I gave you too much of my hope, too much of my future, too much of what I had. I made too much room to mourn you, too much energy looking for you, too much space in my head and in my heart. You took up too much of every part of me and every part around me. Everything reminded me of you, everything broke my heart. I gave you too much. And what did you give me? Silence. Dead silence. You never searched for me. Never came for me. Never fought for me. Never saved me. You left me with heartache and pain so deep it hurt with every step I took. I gave it all, gave all of me to you, for you to mock me. Your silence was nothing more than mockery knowing how much I’d give and how little you’d return. And although you never heard my weeping and screams, we both know you knew I would be. I told you how deeply in love I was. And you acted like a child holding a toy. You loved it for a moment and then left it outdoors. It got rained on, it got tossed and turned by the wind, it got covered in mud and strangled in weeds, waiting for you to remember it again. Yet, you stayed indoors where it was safe, where you clung to the toys that weren’t dirty or torn. And I cried for you, yelled over the wind to come and remember me. And in your silence I have heard everything. I gave you far too much of me. I’ll let you go like I should’ve a long time ago. Acceptance has finally come to give me grace. The love you owed me will die on this ground and I’ll rise from it, tall like sunflowers reaching the sky embracing the sun. The sun watched me carefully waiting for my realization, waiting for the day I’d turn to him again. His warmth always clothed me after every storm reminding me the behind the clouds he was there waiting. He watched me grow and is proud of me for the colors I wear can finally show. I’m more free now than before, waiting for for you was my nightmare but now I’m letting you go.
By Stephanie Rosas3 years ago in Poets
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