Windows

I washed the windows Saturday. I hardly ever wash the windows. Not because I don't want to look out of clean windows, but because our house is old and the combination storms that the previous owner put on are a pain in the neck. Anyway, I washed the windows. And they looked beautiful. Sparkly and clean the sun shined brighter through them. Then, it rained. And it's been raining off and on for the last four days. I didn't think of it at first. Then, Sunday afternoon it dawned on me that surely my clean windows were no longer clean. I checked, and it's true, all my work and broken finger nails and risky ladder climbing was in vain. Every window was splattered with rain drops.
So why do it I bemoaned.
Why spend the time and energy washing the windows if all you get is a few stolen moments of sparkling beauty?
Spiritual life feels like that sometimes. You toil and sweat and sacrifice for a few stolen moments of beauty...
like when you have heart level conversation that clearly makes a difference
like when you're able to help, truly help someone in their need
like when the sunset takes your breath away
or when you sense God's love and know for that moment in earth time He's smiling on you.
This post is rambly and doesn't have a point accept that even though I hate cleaning in general and washing windows specifically, I'll keep doing it if only for those few moments of sparkle.