My Clothesline Brings Me Closer to God
Confessions of a laundry geek
Posted by Danielle Bean
in Homemaking
on Tuesday, June 23, 2009 11:30 AM
I am not much enamored with laundry. I would gratefully accept the help of a laundry fairy if there really were such a thing. (There isn’t, right? Don’t hold out on me here, moms.)
In a family of ten, though, laundry is an everyday, ongoing process of washing drying, folding, and putting away.
One of the best things I ever did for myself was to stop trying to get the laundry “done.” It never will be “done,” I realized and trying to accomplish the impossible was only frustrating me.
These days, I consider myself a success if I have completed 2-3 loads in a day and the clothing has been returned to dresser drawers or hung in closets by bedtime.
Another laundry favor I did myself this year was to ask my husband to put up a clothesline.
Shortly after he put it up, my dear father-in-law stopped by the house, noticed the line, and winced. “Is Dan making you hang clothes to dry?” he asked with sympathy.
What my father-in-law doesn’t know, though, is that I LOVE my clothesline.
I love the excuse to linger in a sunny spot near the woods, listening to the bees buzz and the birds twitter in the trees above. I usually wash a load first thing in the morning and then head out to hang it in the early sun. Sometimes 2-year-old Daniel, the only child who is awake at that hour, joins me. Wearing Red Sox pajamas and bare feet, he perches on a rock nearby and watches as I hang the clothes. I cherish that time.
I breathe fresh air. I drink in the stillness. My hands are occupied with simple work that serves my family and my mind is free—to think, to pray, to just be.
Throughout the day, when I catch glimpses of my children’s clothing waving in the sunny breeze, I see God’s providence in sun and wind. The sight always nudges me toward gratitude for the loved ones who wear the clothing flapping in the breeze. It’s a simple, joyful thing to see.
It’s not always easy to remember to be grateful for small blessings. But my clothesline is one small blessing that makes me more aware of all the ways—small ways and big ways—that I have been blessed in this little spot in New Hampshire.
photo credit: Helene Froula
By submitting this form, you give Faith And Family Magazine permission to publish this comment.
Comments will be published at our discretion, and may be edited for clarity and length. For best formatting, please
limit your response to one paragraph and don't hit "enter" to force line breaks.
Print Blog
Email a Friend
!
