So, after an exciting meeting at Weight Watchers, where I now have officially lost 5% of my total body weight we shopped for the weeks food. Budget conscious, weight conscious, lots of fruit, milk, yogurt, lean meat and veggies went into the cart. How fortunate I am at this time in my life that I can buy food to feed us. I know in many parts of the United States and around the world many people are struggling to eat right, if they can eat at all. So with a grateful heart we buy our food and go home.
At home, putting the groceries away I mentally go over my list of what's going to the dump. This and that and the other thing. The truck if loaded up and we visit another relative who wants to share the trip. The drive to the dump is about an hour from where I live. A beautiful drive with glimpses of the Columbia River, hills and beautiful trees, here and there with the marks of fall in oranges, yellows and occasional red. I love driving my truck, it's big, it's new, it's powerful. We listen to K-Love on the radio and enjoy the drive.
Well I'm finally old enough that I don't load trucks anymore, or unload them so at the dump I watch other people unload their loads. One guy had about 30 very nice doors he threw away. Reformed dumpster diver that I am I still think, "Hey, I could use those for something, for sure." Another couple of people pull in and their bags, boxes, etc. go out of the trucks with bangs, plops, and crashes.
Home finally we discover we can use the rented steam cleaner another famiy rented and my day changes. Moving furniture, vacuuming, the rug cleaning begins. How wonderful to see the dark water fill the tank. How rewarding to know dirt and grime is leaving my home. It's a wonderful clean feeling. This morning, up early before six I go out and admire my floors. Not new carpet for sure, but clean carpet, fresh smelling carpet. Yeah! I notice the carpeted stairs need a good shampoo and so the days begins again. 
When I was a little girl, my parents took me to a Baptist church. At that time, they were renting an old theater in downtown Auburn, Washington. I thought it was cool. The sanctuary sloped down to the stage and a couple of box seats were located high up in the walls. The stage had a couple of seats and a huge maroon, velvet like curtain that they could push a button and open and close. 
At five, my heart was very tender to the things of God. Missionaries would come showing us slides of people in different countries, they would tell us how those people had never heard that Jesus loves them, and that they were lost.
When the altar call was given for those who wanted to become missionaries, I went forward, all stout, sturdy five years of me. My profession of accepting Christ was taken seriously and some time later I had the thrill of discovering that one of the high box seats in the front of the theater/sanctuary had a big "bathtub" full of warm water. The pastor and my parents had explained to me about baptism. That it is the outward sign of an inward act of the washing and cleansing work of Jesus in our hearts and lives when we ask Him into our hearts.
So one Sunday, high above all the other church goers I looked out of the high box window. The pastor asked me if I had asked Jesus into my heart, and in my small childish voice I answered, "Yes I have." Then gently he lowered me into the water baptising me in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. It was a special moment for me.
Later in my life, I rebelled and ran from God, my parents and the church. I did many stupid things which filled me with a sense of shame and regret. I just didn't feel clean anymore, because I wasn't. I had allowed things in the world to convince me that right and wrong were philosophical concepts. That religion was something our parents brainwashed us with. And so, having experienced much of what the world offered, I wound up broken, bruised, and anything but clean.
I repented, and I'm sad and glad to say that this happened more than once that I returned to the faith and God of my childhood after wandering away. Each time I returned, before the final and true commitment for life, I felt a renewed sense of being clean, of being pure and being happy. I no longer experienced the sense of guilt and regret because I lifted those memories to God and over time I believe He healed me. The memories are still there, but the sting is gone.
As an adult, aware fully of what salvation meant to me and for me, I asked to be baptized again. Which I was. It was a significant event, which for me was a public testimony of a new beginning.
Feeling clean, feeling pure is of great value. It allows me the freedom to experience joy and peace while accepting my imperfections. It allows me to accept what Christ did for me on the cross and to move forward in my life, knowing I'm forgiven.
Today, if in your own life, you're experiencing a loss of feeling clean, turn to Jesus. He is the one who can fill your heart and life with His life. He died to save us, He died to cleanse us, and He died to give us life, abundant life. Well, I've got to get ready for church, I hope where ever you are, what ever your circumstances you have a wonderful day, with renewed hope, purpose and power. Keep looking up!
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