I love those life hack videos which pop up on my social media feeds every now and then. You know the ones, where they tell you how to fold a pair of jeans to the size of a postage stamp or show you how to clean a drain using nothing more than an old onion.
I browse the videos with the sound off, reading the subtitles and wondering how they came up with that particular solution. Then I walk away with every intention of putting into practice my newfound skill. And never do.
That was until recently when I had a chair with a big stain I needed to erase. The mark was on the main seat part of the chair and was super visible. No casually plumped cushion was going to hide that dark spill.
For at least two years, I’ve tried every product at my disposal to get rid of the unsightly damage to the pale grey upholstery of that piece of furniture. I’ve dusted it with Vanish powder; sprayed it with fabric cleaner; dabbed at it with soap and water. It barely faded.
I was at the point of getting the chair recovered. It seemed a waste to have it hiding away in shame in the corner of a dark room. I should fix it and use it. But then I would need to figure out how much fabric I would need; I’d have to shop for said fabric; and I’d have to either learn how to reupholster furniture or find someone who already knew. All of which sounded like far too much effort.
I could just buy a new chair.
And then I remembered those life hack videos — in particular, the one promising a revolution in stain remover found in the back of my grocery cupboard.
I pulled out the giant bottle of vinegar (yes, vinegar is as ubiquitous as chilli in our house). I fished around in another cupboard in search of the catering-sized packet of bicarbonate of soda I keep handy (for bread making…). I retrieved the bottle of washing up liquid from under the sink. And I made a potion.
‘Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble,’ as Shakespeare once said. My potion fizzed and frothed and made a bit of a mess.
I grabbed my sponge and took my foaming cauldron outside to where the stained chair awaited. Dipping a sponge into the frothing liquid, I scrubbed at the stain with small circular motions as instructed in the video.
And wow! Hey presto! Abracadabra! The stain vanished.
Two years of ingrained dirt and spillage removed in an instant with the right mix of simple ingredients.
I don’t know about you, but I sometimes feel a bit like that chair — grubby. Life has spilled its messy contents all over me, and I’m no longer new and sparkly. And just like with my approach to cleaning that chair, I’ve tried a dozen things to get me good and clean and fresh (as the soap powder advert used to tra-la).
I’ve tried resting. And then I’ve tried exercise. I’ve tried eating, and I’ve tried fasting. I’ve tried reading a book or singing a song or watching TV.
But they’ve not worked.
I need a life hack. Not from a video on social media; a real life hack. From him who is life, from him who turns the reddest stain into purest white, from him who washes feet and calls the whole man clean.
“…Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” Ephesians 5:25-26
Ephesians 5:25-26
The cleaning video offered a simple and easy solution. I didn’t need to go to the shops to buy extra materials. I didn’t need to wait hours for the mixture to be ready. Everything was to hand and ready to be used.
It’s the same with the cleansing of my heart from the stain of the rough and tumble of a busy life. The solution is right to hand, ready and waiting to be picked up and used in the way suggested in the instructions.
I am cleansed when I am washed with the water of the word. Simple. When I fill myself with Scripture, when I read it and read it again, when I chew over it and think about it for more than half a minute — that’s when the washing starts.
Then there’s the gentle rubbing of the sponge; massaging the water of the word deep into my heart and soul and mind. Actively choosing to memorise verses and passages of the Bible. Stocking a pull-out cupboard with handy essentials for the moment I need them. Investing in stores from which the Holy Spirit can draw.
“Jesus said to him, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. And you are clean.”
John 13:10
Jesus stooped and washed the dust — the dust of daily living, the dust of purposeful ministry — from the disciples’ feet. He, the Word made flesh, cleansed them of their fatigue and their failings. He rinsed away the disappointments and restored the dreams. He acted the message Paul would later write.
It took two years for the build-up of grime to discolour my chair. It took ten minutes to remove it. But there was preparation beforehand. I’d invested in the vinegar and the bicarb and the washing up liquid ages before I knew I needed them. I’d watched a video and found a method.
It only takes a moment for Jesus to wash me with the water of his word. With himself. It takes the softest of whispers from the Holy Spirit to refresh and recharge me — if I am well-stocked and well prepared.
Here’s to a pantry full of all I need, ready for the next time the world spills over me.