It’s been about a year since our beautiful Maine Coon cat died and I still find fluffy bits of fur now and then. She was gorgeous and I can’t imagine why anyone would dump such a good-natured cat unless it was because her fur was taking over their house.
Every rib could be counted when she first sidled up to our door but she quickly made up for those lost meals. We joked about a taking a picture of her seated, with a caption below her triangular shape: “Does this fur make my butt look big?”
Chewie was definitely a curvy girl. And she shed. A lot.
I thought about applying for some kind of breeding license. The result of the dust bunnies mating with the cat and dog hair, had to create something worth putting a sparkly collar on.
Some of you still have your mouths open at those first words “still find.”
I really admire you guys. Dust bunnies quake with fear at the sound of your step and Chewie’s fur would have rolled obediently into your dust pans without being asked.
Me? Not so much. Dust bunnies love me. They hide out, invite their friends and hold parties under my bed. They see my broom and giggle derisively, knowing they can escape. I host a dust bunny safe house. I am beginning to look at it as a charity. Perhaps I’ll file for a non-profit.
Lately, I’ve begun to see this as a metaphor for giftings and callings. Some of us would rather face a fire-breathing dragon than a dust bunny any day of the week. Our weapon of choice is a sword. Dust bunnies do not die at the edge of a sword.
Others are truly gifted at taking care of the details that overwhelm some of us. These people are really good at wielding brooms, at slaying dust bunnies. Broom wielders and dust bunny slayers sometimes feel under-appreciated (and quite frankly, sometimes you are overlooked) but without you, things simply would not run and a whole lot of dragon slayers would wind up falling on their own swords in desperation.
Please understand that I am not talking about housework or someone being needed to keep the home fires burning. While those are important and necessary gifts, I’m certain that there are people quite handy at wielding a figurative broom who have literal dust bunnies under their beds.
(I’ll never forget the memorial I read back in my obituary writing days. A presumably well-meaning family wrote a poem eulogizing their deceased mother, describing how she went on to dust and sweep the streets of gold. Questionable theology aside, I’ve often thought of that poor woman and how much she must appreciate her heavenly mansion where she doesn’t have to clean up after anyone.)
The importance of being a broom-wielder
If you want a good Biblical depiction of the importance of the dust bunny slayers, just read the book of Leviticus. Every time the Israelites moved camp during their 40 years of wandering about the desert, the tabernacle had to be packed up a certain way. If God had picked someone like me to do the unpacking, the golden lampstand may have stayed in the box the whole 40 years.
I am not a dust bunny slayer. And since I want to be good at things, I don’t like that. I would love to take broom-wielding lessons. But learning to be comfortable in the role of dragon slayer is a post for another day.
When God first gave His laws to Moses on Mount Sinai, Moses and Aaron took a census. Only Kohathite, Gershonite and Merrarite men between the ages of 30 and 50 were eligible to serve in the temple. (These were all of the tribe of Levi.) The count came to total of 8,580 qualified men. Out of those, only three were allowed to pack the tabernacle and it wasn’t three nameless workers from Three Guys Movers.
Aaron (heard of him?) and his sons. That’s all.
God gave them very detailed instructions on exactly how to wrap each holy article. (Numbers 4) The second most important man in the nation was given the job of packing.
There were items that God called holy and there were certain people to whom He entrusted those items. They were the detail guys. There were routines that God called holy and there were certain people with whom He entrusted those routines.
Routines of Holiness
The laws that God gave the Israelites give a beautiful depiction of the holiness of everyday living. These “broom wielders,” these slayers of dust bunnies, were protectors of the routines of holiness decreed by God and it was a high calling.
In Leviticus 18:7, God says, “I give your priesthood to you as a gift for service…”
We see the importance of this come full circle in Hebrews 8:1-5.
“Now this is the main point of the things we are saying: We have such a High Priest, who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens, a Minister of the sanctuary and of the true tabernacle which the Lord erected, and not man.
For every high priest is appointed to offer both gifts and sacrifices. Therefore, it is necessary that this One also have something to offer.
For if He were on earth, He would not be a priest, since there are priests who offer the gifts according to the law; who serve the copy and shadow of the heavenly things, as Moses was divinely instructed when he was about to make the tabernacle…”
Do you see this?
God gave the Jews 613 commandments to govern their daily lives. These were not designed to make their lives oppressive. Among many things, these laws taught them that every thing in life – down to the way their daily food was prepared – everything is holy.
This was a copy and a shadow of what was to come. Everything we do in the service of our Master is holy. Every regimen. Every routine.
A dragon-slaying sword-slinger was not the kind of person to teach those precepts.
That job belonged to a mighty broom wielder.
Slayer of dust bunnies.
Protector of the holy.
For more on the study of routines of holiness, click here: CelebrateJesus/RoutinesofHoliness