“Gooood,” I purr steady.
“Where no oxen are, the trough is clean.” I think to myself. It’s a Proverb. Chapter fourteen and verse four.
It’s true. And the oxen in my stable today smelled like onion, peppermint, anxiety, and laughter.
My stable is not empty. And it’s not clean. Not without disorder and surprise. But today laughter cleaned anxiety. Lysol wipes cleaned peppermint stick. Dishwasher cleaned onion board. And at two-o’clock in the morning big German arms cleaned panic attack away and stabled me til I slept.
Today was mess. It was laughter run all onion and it was spaghetti spatter on apron bib and eye make-up smear and peppermint sticky. And it was the disordered beat of panic mess. It was ox and stable.
And it seems to me that God is partial to oxen and stable mess. Wasn’t this where He chose for Jesus to enter this world? Isn’t this still where Jesus enters my world?
written by: Carolyn Roehrig