I never thought I'd feel grateful for the laundry.
In some of my less honorable conversations with my husband a few years ago, when things were frustrated and tired and muddled, I would bemoan my life as a working mom, teaching half of the time, taking care of the family half of the time, volunteering half of the time and not doing any of it well any of the time.
(For you brilliant mathematicians out there, you may have noticed that my time equaled all plus a half, and that's exactly what it felt like!)
I would complain about the fact that no one helped me with the housework,
no one did their chores,
no one did the grocery shopping,
no one did the laundry,
no one even replaced a roll of toilet paper when they finished it.
I would complain and complain and nag and holler while my poor husband was forced to sit and listen (Heaven help him if he walked away!). My tirade would generally finish with, "I feel like nothing more than a washer woman!" (That's an angry exclamation point, by the way - not an enthusiastic one...in case you couldn't detect the tone.)
That feeling seems like a lifetime away from now. Don't get me wrong...it's not that I love doing laundry per se. But the little things that were such an enormous annoyance before are simply no big deal now.
Now it could be argued that because my schedule has freed up so much without steady work, the laundry doesn't seem overwhelming anymore.
It could be argued that my kids are older and help out more.
It could be argued that without my job, we have less so little things mean more.
These are all part of the equation I'm sure.
But the real reason for the whistling while I work is that my perspective has changed.
Laundry is simply part of my *sacred mundane.
A gift to me from my Heavenly Father...
An opportunity to take care of my family.
The clothes are a gift.
The machines are a gift.
The water is a gift.
The time available to take care of it all...a gift.
A passage from Sarah Young yesterday reminded me of this change...
"You can ventilate safely to Me because talking with Me tempers your thoughts and helps you see things from My perspective. Complaining to others is another matter altogether. It opens the door to deadly sins such as self-pity and rage. Whenever you are tempted to grumble, come to Me and talk it out. As you open up to Me, I will put My thoughts in your mind and My song in your heart."
Oh, His beautiful song to the washer woman.
The tune that sings its way out through my hands,
into the fibers of our clothing,
ironing out every wrinkle of life with its joy.
I thank Him for this tune I'm allowed to sing...
Such a beautiful melody He's put in my heart.
Photo credits: Microsoft Word photograph images
*Special thanks to Kari Patterson for the term "Sacred Mundane," her blog title, which has wedged its way into my heart.