I forget, that is, until it isn’t there and then suddenly I’m rather aware of how accustom to it I’ve become. This morning after working out (thank you Jillian Michaels) I turned on the hot water to shower and the only thing that came out was a long slow hiss. Just to double check I went to the kitchen and sure enough, no hot water. Thankfully the hot and cold water come through different pipes in our building and we still had cold water.
For reasons I won’t go into here, I really needed to bathe today beyond mere vanity and comfort (euphemism for needing to be clean, anyone?) Thinking of my friend Kat, who used to like to have Little House on the Prairie Days before she actually moved to China in the mid-90’s when running hot water wasn’t such a given, I put on three pots to heat up and got out a metal basin to put in my bathtub.
As I bustled about I realized how much effort goes into keeping my outside clean. Between brushing my teeth, regularly washing my hands, using toilet paper, shampooing and conditioning my hair, and bathing there is certainly more time devoted to my exterior than I normally stop to consider.
Do I have as regimented of a routine for my insides? Am I as faithful in attending to my soul, my heart and all that springs forth from them? Do I notice as acutely when my spiritual hot water isn’t there?
As I knelt in my bathtub to dip my head in the basin of hot water I lamented how much like the Pharisees I am when I mis-prioritize and pay attention to the outside of the cup and miss the things that really make the cup unable to perform its function.