Years ago I taught a costume class at a local school. The deal was that I interacted with the students and someone I never met cleaned after me. I was incredulous. In fact I asked again, and was reassured that the janitors came through every night and would sweep, tidy up and wash the sinks. How was this possible? Of course I needed to do my part in keeping supplies on the tables, but when you work with fake fur the fuzz gets everywhere. I kind of expected hate mail. but it never came. 

 

My current costume gig works the same way, although I have befriended the cleaners. And apologized. Yet they seem content to let me steer students while they mop the floor.

 

I also have the good fortune to sing in the preschool each week. I show up and sit in the chair that waits for me, and start strumming. The teachers work around the edges to hand out instruments, and remind shouters to use a singing voice. It is a sweet deal. 

 

The behind the scenes support that appears for my life is just as remarkable.  If I make an effort to avoid judging others, God skitters around the periphery cleaning up those scraps. In their place He flows in with compassion, which is astonishing. When I remember to pray for help with wanting to control people, He sweeps in with clean intentions. 

 

This too, is a very sweet deal.