in the summer as time slows and the sun warms and dries our clothes faster than the drier can, i find the rhythm of hanging up the laundry to be so life giving. as my hands clip one side, than another, my thoughts are free to find their way. i find talking with my Father to be so conversational, so natural, flowing so freely. sometimes i lose myself and awareness of others around me-the noise of the game being played on the tramp 15 feet away sounds 50 miles away. with the last clip-i pick up the basket and re-enter the world, filled and strengthened and made new.
even thru this drought that i’ve been in-this dry place-hanging the laundry becomes like a cup of cold water.
but it’s October now and the rain hinders my clothes ability to dry outside, coupled with the start of school and all the fullness that is fall and there is no time to spend hanging the clothes up one by one. and so laundry becomes just another chore.
i’m still fighting against this dryness in my walkings with God, this struggle with prayer and reading of His word. there are moments where He breaks thru but much of the time it’s that trudging through the mud. but i don’t give up and i am aware of the workings of the Spirit in that. i keep asking him to help me break thru the fog. i keep asking Him; “Lord, teach me how to pray.” and i keep asking Him; “Lord help my eyes learn how to see You.”
the dishwasher breaks. it’s a bit annoying to think of the added work, but the timing is bad to even begin to address what is wrong with it, so i just start washing dishes. the first day i’m washing all the dishes that were in the dishwasher that didn’t come clean and all the dishes that were waiting to be loaded in. it takes a long time and just isn’t fun at all. but then a rhythm begins to take shape. i find that the few dishes generated in the morning take 10 minutes to clean up. i find that the 10 minutes there at the sink begins to feel like the minutes spent at the clothes line. i find that lunch doesn’t generate enough dishes to bother with and the dinner ones take a bit longer-but there are helpers and they each take their turn. there’s a forced slowness that i am beginning to appreciate. while my hands work in the morning my mind looses itself in the presence of my Father. in the evening as i work alongside the one whose turn it is, conversations flow a bit easier too.
i honestly never thought i’d say these words; but i am enjoying doing the dishes. it’s become something more than a chore-it’s become prayer.