The small church we attend cannot afford professional cleaning, so the members take turns doing it. My wife and I are on the rotation schedule, and this week was our turn. It only takes a couple of hours or so.

The hardest part was deciding when to do it. My wife’s preference was Friday after work, to get it out of the way. But I like Friday evenings to be free of anything that even feels like work. My preference was Saturday morning, when we’re rested and can take our time. But she doesn’t like to tie up her Saturday mornings unnecessarily.

We compromised on Saturday afternoon. It was supposed to rain, so we could spend Friday evening and Saturday morning resting, reading, and doing other light stuff. Then we could go clean the church early in the afternoon.

Well, you guessed it—Saturday morning dawned with not a cloud in the sky, and a balmy Spring temperature. Outdoor weather! My wife couldn’t wait to rake the yard and plant some bulbs; I got clean-the-car fever. By lunchtime, we were both worn out.

No problem, we thought. We’d just eat lunch, rest awhile, and go clean the church.

Easier thought than done. When it was time to get up from our nap, both of us could hardly move. (I’m 61 and she’s—well, I know better than to tell.) We were stiff and sore, but we still had to clean the church. A two-hour job now felt like a marathon!

Resentment time! Her: “Why wouldn’t you do it last night?” Me: “Why wouldn’t you do it first thing this morning?” Both: “The offerings are up; why doesn’t the church hire somebody to do it?” Thankfully, we realized what was going on, and stopped to pray about it. “God, we offer ourselves…”

We swallowed some aspirin—and our pride—and went to clean the church. By the time we finished, our aches had lessened, the church was clean, and we felt good about what we had accomplished. Not only that, but we went home and while she cooked dinner, I assembled her new sewing cabinet. After that, we slept like a couple of logs!

The best part happened the next day. When we got to church, the pastor beamed. “I can always tell when you two clean the church,” he extolled. We looked at each other and smiled. “Our pleasure,” we responded truthfully.