Thoughts at the Kitchen Sink

Messy and Imperfect

by Julie Longwood

The kitchen sink….

It’s a place that holds so many meanings and triggers so many feelings.  Confusion has set in!

The kitchen sink is the place in my home where I find myself the most, physically, emotionally, and often spiritually. It’s my worst nightmare and my reprieve, my duty and my hiding place, my storm and my quiet…

My kitchen sink is old, and the counter behind the faucet is sinking in, right above it is a small window, with what was a white sill, and it holds things my children have collected or made. The window is taped with sayings and verses that bring me back when my soul feels dead and push me forward when I feel like I just can’t anymore. Outside of the window is a gravel driveway and the wall of the church next door. It isn’t a fantastic view, but it’s the only window in my kitchen, so it’s my favorite, even on the darkest days, it lets in bits of light.

My kitchen sink is where my day begins, and it’s where my day ends. It’s also where most of the in between is spent, whether it’s for prepping meals, or cleaning up, it awaits. When I’m not using it for cleaning or preparing meals, it calls my name. Something in it brings me to it, the way my hips rest on the corner when I lean in, my feet set in the same spot, eyes forward staring out the window….

My kitchen sink has caught as many of my tears as it has the dirty dishes. It’s a place where my soul cries out for comfort and peace. It’s a place, my soul, soars with vision and joy.

My children always know they can find me there like they know I somehow need the kitchen sink. They pull over a stool and often jump right into whatever I was doing. We connect there, whether it’s them cooking and cleaning with me or singing along to the music and pretending the kitchen is their stage. We have silly chats at that kitchen sink and heartbreaking conversations where my shirt catches their tears.

My kitchen sink has taken abuse as I’ve slammed pots and dishes in anger, “Why me, why do I have to do this day in and out?! I feel alone!”

At my kitchen sink, God peeks right through my little, dirty, cluttered window and speaks to my soul. It’s there, at my sunken counter and speckled sill, which He meets me, speaking life into a sometimes weary soul. It’s there, with my notes taped up and gifts of rocks and dandelions sit, that my joy is restored, that my anxiety is replaced with peace. It’s through my little window that looks at a boring wall, that God shows me visions of where I’ve been and where I’m going.

The splatters of water and food on the window remind me… every part of me is messy and so obviously imperfect are the parts of me that He loves the most.

My kitchen sink may signify duty to most, and sometimes it does to me as well. Mostly, though, my kitchen sink is where love, hope, and grace are always found.

“It was a perfect sacrifice by a perfect person to perfect some very imperfect people. By that single offering, He did everything that needed to be done for everyone who takes part in the purifying process.” Hebrews 10:14 MSG

Julie Longwood is a writer, wife, mama of four, and not only my best friend but my sister-in-love. She has mastered the skill of being imperfect, knowing she serves a perfect God. Wild and free- two words that best describe her. Always welcoming her raw and real words. She lives on Long Island where she serves alongside her husband who pastor’s The Vineyard Church in Rockville Centre. 

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