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| these dirty boys clean up pretty well! |
The deep timber of his gravely voice immediately took me back to the days of raising young kids. His Dirty Jobs show was a weekly classic in the McNatt home. I can still see my boys and husband sprawled out on the sofas in rapt attention to whatever dirty job Mike Rowe was piping into our family room that week. Hanging on his every gross word, like a train wreck from which they couldn’t look away, I marveled at their focus. The more grotesque, the more rapt.
I’m pretty sure they never missed an episode. If memory serves me correctly, we owned the DVD set of all 532 episodes. Okay, I just fact checked —179 episodes. I’m sure we watched them all. More than once.
I mean is there anything better than a couple of boys and their dad being grossed out together while stuffing faces with popcorn and chips and soda? That was how we rolled back then. After a few days at the beach with my family, I’m happy to report, it’s still how we kind of roll.
Being grossed out together is real family bonding.
So as Rick and I traveled alone listening to this iconic voice, I’m sure he had to be thinking the same thing as me: this man, Mike Rowe, and his filthy offerings, were woven right into the fabric of our many years of early parenting. I will never not hear the deep bass of Mike’s voice and not think of my boys. Even if the topic was something absolutely awful, there’s something really wonderful about that memory of them all together sprawled out in our family room.
I’m not going lie, in our travels this past week, it was nice being able to listen to an Audible uninterrupted. That’s what we get these days with older children—The ability to hear. The oldest kids traveled from their own states and the other three drove together in a separate car. But as lovely as uninterrupted listening and quiet driving can be, it will always feel strange to be vacation bound without a backseat full of a bunch of hooting and hollering hooligans.
Talk about dirty jobs. Those were the days. Cleaning out our backseat after a long family trip was most certainly an adventure into the world of gross. There was always some kind of something sticky or smooshed or crumbled or crushed. Always something borderline horrifying to pull out from behind us. I easily conjure up the image of my young mothering self staring at an odd item unearthed from between the seats and wondering who and what and, mostly, why in heaven’s name?
Dirty Jobs wasn't just a show, but was also such a big part of raising kids. Sometimes we talk about some of the gross things from those years. We actually laughed about a few even this past week at the beach. Classic stories. Stories which were terrible to live through, but hilarious to remember. Like the time the youngest brother leaned over the side of his bunk bed and threw up into the mouth of the oldest brother reclining innocently below. Perfect aim, perhaps, but no one forgets the moment when they receive another’s vomit— beloved brother or not.
I could go on and on with stories. You need only come sit at one of our family gatherings and I promise you won’t be disappointed. We truly could have our own Family Dirty Jobs show--at least 179 episodes.
Because that’s how most families roll.
Because that’s how most of life rolls.
It’s a dirty business this living, is it not? I know we don’t like to talk about the dirt. Pictures have a way of hiding it. I’m guilty of that trick. Angles are everything. But most of us with a few decades under our belts know that there’s no such thing as squeaky clean and picture-perfect living.
Speaking of a dirty job, this week I had a colonoscopy. I know that’s not something most people share publicly, but, it fits this blog topic, so, I’m sharing. Besides, please use this as your friendly reminder to cross that off your list. The night before my procedure I was explaining the process to Bella who, horrified, exclaimed, “But mom, WHO does that??? WHO wants to do THAT job?”
The next morning as I entered the OR and was getting all “set up” by the team, I shared my daughter’s comments with them. We all had a good laugh over her teenage disbelief. My gastroenterologist raised her hand and laughing, said, “Me! I do that job!” I wished, for Bella, I had taken a selfie with Dr. Julia who looked more like a movie star in front of the camera as opposed to, well, you know …
I know it’s unpleasant. And perhaps not polite dinner table conversation, but it’s something necessary and pretty important. I’m happy to report that procedure went well and at first glance all looks good. Grateful after these past couple of years of not so favorable results.
But Dirty Jobs, it’s how life is lived. I’ve kind of enjoyed watching my children grow up and have to learn how to do the not so pleasant. I don’t think it’s so bad for us, on occasion, to get dirty. Not just recline on our sofas and marvel at others getting dirty, but to dig in and do it ourselves.
We don’t live pristine lives. And the sooner we realize how messy living is, the sooner we can mature and move on.
You want a cuddly, cute puppy?
You’ll have to take care of all things potty training.
You want your shower to drain quickly?
You’ll have to learn how to snake out the gobs of gross hair.
(Or call your dad).
You want to leave your lunchbox contents in your backpack all summer?
You’ll have to deal with that little lovely come back-to-school time.
You (Jody) want to have chickens in a pretty chicken coop?
You'll need to scoop chicken #$%@ every single day of your life!
We have learned a little this year about hard jobs .. rough places … unpleasant things. This dirty cancer diagnosis has, in some ways, taken from us our much preferred rose-colored glasses. We don’t spend too much time dwelling on the ugly, but instead, do what needs to be done and we move on. Have the test or procedure, take the medicine and the side effects, do the next hard thing. And then humble ourselves before the Lord and ask His mercy and strength in all of it.
But of course, like you, we sometimes wonder:
Why can’t life be easier? More lovely? Better? CLEANER?
The story of Adam and Eve in Genesis 3 gives us a pretty good theological understanding of what sin did when it entered the picture. How it muddied the beautiful garden. How it corrupted the perfect. How it shattered the pristine. After Adam and Eve’s sin there’s a lot in those next verses about DIRT —The serpent crawling on his belly in the dust and grit, the man working the ground, the woman in pains of labor. None of it pleasant. And all of it true to the suffering in our lives today. Very real and very filthy stuff.
But, then, Jesus.
Jesus who came, and carrying our gross sin on His shoulders, agreed to the hardest, most dirty job ever — dying on the cross in our place, for our sin. For us. You. Me.
A dirty, grotesque death, but necessary to bring our only hope for salvation. Our only hope to be fully restored to that which each one of us craves — Holiness. Wholeness, Redemption and Glory.
So, yes, in the meantime, we live pretty dirty lives. Whether it be our job or our chore or our difficulty or our diagnosis. We are pretty much most days groveling in some kind of dirt.
But, oh how wonderful that, on occasion, we get to be alone with the audible voice of our Father in heaven and the car ride grows quiet and we get to hear His deep voice reminding us that, dirty as this life is, there is so much more to our story … because of the cleansing blood of His Perfect Son, Jesus.
And, that is exactly the way I hear it. I hope you do too.
“Behold, I am making all things NEW.” Revelation 21:5
“He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in Him.” Psalm 40:1-3
(a few photos from our beach trip last week. because there really is beauty even in the dirty)! =)
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