Is it possible to completely clean a toaster?

When I clean the kitchen and I move the toaster in order to clean beneath it, I am reminded of the hassle of all the crumbs. They just never stop falling.

So I wipe down the top of the toaster, allowing the crumbs to fall to the counter. Then I lift the toaster to clean the crumbs under it along with the ones from the top.

I set it down again, only to see more tiny crumbs appear. Okay, I’ll remove the bottom tray and shake the crumbs into the sink, I say to myself. I’ll even wipe the inside of that bottom tray. That should take care of them.

I reassemble it, satisfied that I actually accomplished something — knowing from experience that remnant, rebel crumbs still cling to the inside of the toaster, ready to fall out at the slightest disruption.

Because I know that while I can shake that thing vigorously, not all the crumbs will yield. They’ll have to come out another time.

What about those days between deep-cleanings when making my kitchen “look” clean is my goal?

I admit, I fake-clean my toaster crumbs more often than I clean them — I simply wipe down the counter under and around the thing. Perhaps I am cleaning my kitchen but am short on time for thoroughness. Or maybe company is coming for a visit and I have too much to do.

I can make my toaster appear shiny and perfectly clean and make the counter around it look unblemished, free of evidence of my shortcuts. My guests will never know the difference. And, pathetically, the counter looks so clean that I forget about my shortcut. I forget about the magical reappearing crumbs that lie loosely within and below that appliance, where just one jarring will cause a cascade of crumbs to pollute the counter once again.

The difference between that toaster and my heart is that the toaster has no will of its own and has no choice but to yield to my hands and my determination to clean it. I, on the other hand, can choose whether I want to open myself up to my God for His loving “heart-cleaning.”

I cannot reach into my heart and clean the junk. I can only make it appear that I am clean, blemish free and that I have it all together.

What is so sad about this scenario is that I manage to convince myself that all seems good and healthy, so it must be.

But what about the crumbs from bitterness, parched and brittle, hanging on thanks to the attempts to justify their existence? Inevitably the pieces break off, the jagged-edged crumbs forming new wounds as with each new jarring they find their way to the darkness at the bottom of the soul.

What about secret shortcomings, failings, addictions enjoying safe haven from the intrusion of a determined, thorough shaking? 

How about critical and judgemental tendencies? How long can those remain inside without being shaken down and into the open, only to expose the facade?

The inconvenience of a disruption always comes, whether it is by an accidental bump or a deliberate resolve to get the cleaning done. Will I take the time to deal with it, to give it to Him who does all things well, or will I choose in those moments to come back to it later?

My mess is certainly not going anywhere in the meantime.

© Alexa Lopez 2007