Meditations from a Claw-Foot Tub

While recently searching on-line for a cabin to rent for a writing sabbatical, I happened upon one that looked like just what the doctor ordered. The photos whetted my appetite: small, tucked between towering mountains within earshot of a rushing stream, basically one open room with a single bedroom partially enclosed, full kitchen and nice fireplace. But what sold me was the bathroom. The bathroom? Yeah, the bathroom. For it was home to a fabulous claw-foot tub! Perfect!

We live in a world of instant gratification, a world whose mantra is: “I want it and I want it yesterday!” In our fast-paced lives of instant everything—from potatoes to tax refunds, we’ve been brainwashed into thinking that any type of waiting is a bad thing. We have microwaves that cook in minutes rather than hours, DSL rather than dial-up (can’t wait for that connection) and road rage if we have to slow down for any reason in traffic. We’ve sold our souls for convenience, bought time-saving devices with money we don’t have, sending ourselves to an early grave, buried with debt and the resulting stress. We’ve traded soaking in a tub for a quick shower. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like showers, but there’s nothing quite as relaxing as a long, hot bath. The claw-foot tub was calling me.

As I luxuriated in that tub, I had plenty of time to talk to God. He tells us to cast our cares on Him; so I did. And at the end of my bath, as the water swirled down the drain, it seemed as if all my cares were sucked up by that little tornado and were gone. That bathtub became a wonderful illustration of God’s promise.

I learned a valuable lesson on that trip. I can use tub time to spend in prayer and meditation and when I’m done, I can literally watch my worries go down the drain.