Stains

We deal with lots of stains in our house, stains on clothes, stains on carpets, stains on walls, stains on the inside of a cup. We have food stains, grass stains, blood stains, and more recently paint stains. There are stains that we, ourselves, the person whom something belongs to makes and stains on something that belongs to someone else. I have some stains that I have kept. Weirdly there is the outfit that Martha was wearing the day we did pre-op for heart surgery, with blood stains. I have kept this. It was important I didn't know if she would live. The very day that she was being taken care of for this I took her twin sister for her two week check up. I was told that it wasn't necessary, but I needed to. I needed to take care of a healthy baby, too. I locked my keys in the van, Maci spit up everywhere, the stain never came out of that onsie, it matched Martha's (the one with the blood stains) I kept it, too. I scrubbed a new paint stain out of Martha's dress that Maggie was wearing today, she didn't want to keep that stain, it wouldn't still match maci's dress if the stain stayed....I was successful and the dress is in the washer. Life has stains, life is messy. Some are stains we made and some of the stains of life were because of other people's mistakes and hurts. No matter how hard we work the stains of life sometimes just won't come out, but unlike clothing and carpet, life can't be replaced or thrown out. We must wear the stains of life. Some of our stains are out in the open. Some of the stains are like the ones that only show up in the fluorescent light they shine on your used clothes that are hoped to be sold at the used children's clothing sale. The stains show up brightly and someone says, "unacceptable, not like new, Take it back home. " That is how I feel sometimes. Most of the times I hide my stains, but then the bright lights come out. Someone talks about a holiday, a memory, a something I can't understand why it bothers me and my stains show. Sometimes the tears come, but never predictably so that I know when to exit. But, the tears never wash out the stains, tears are not spray and wash. Sometimes stains are like a comfy shirt or a pair of jeans that I love, that I paint in and won't get rid of. I love them, I take them out and where them often around the house, I cook and clean, I rock kids, wipe my hands and head to Kroger in them, they fit me and I am not ashamed of them, because when I look around Kroger there are people scattered everywhere with the same character of jeans....it is ok. My stains are ok. I can't wash them out, some of them may fade, but not disappear and for those who never wear stained clothes, who aren't okay with showing imperfections, well that is fine, too. But we all deal with stains.
These are my thoughts today.
What are yours? Be quiet with them and enjoy your stains.