The floor is not my favorite place to sit at 6 months pregnant, but let’s focus on the good times…not huge times.
The floor is another place where life happens in my house. After the kitchen counter, the floor has been a place for many relationship building moments. Sure, when you’re down there you can see every dust bunny and dog hair, but that’s not the point. The point is what happens on the floor.
I’ve cried down there with my face buried in chip laden carpet fibers and wept before God. My face has been in that same carpet just listening to his voice and feeling his presence.
I’ve sat on the floor and discussed the mysteries of the universe with my husband, or watched him wrestle with a two year old.
I’ve played with stuffed animals, changed diapers, played board games, folded laundry, wrapped Christmas presents, done the budget, exercised, and been stuck down there once when I watched a movie on my back and couldn’t move because of that dern sciatic nerve.
The floor serves more purposes than just to walk on. It can serve our hearts. It can hold us when we cry. It can provide a seat when we’re ministering to people in our homes. It makes a great wrestling pad, awesome dance floor, and holds a pallet for stormy nights.
Looking past what needs to be vacuumed and mopped, you might see a place to cherish.