Today is laundry day (and perhaps, tomorrow is too).
The laundry room's once-adequate three-bin sorter has now overflowed into the hallway.
A daunting task was taunting me.
How long would this take me?
Are all of these things TRULY dirty?
Why do they have so many clothes?
In the past year, our family has doubled.
Where there were three of us (my hubby, Mark, my daughter, Miss A, and me)
sitting, playing, and sleeping, there are now six.
Our other daughter, Miss S, has come home from the University;
(exchange students) a daughter from Korea, Miss Lovely and a son from Thailand, Alex,
now call this house their home.
Naturally, the clothes (clean and dirty) have increased.
As has the water bill, the trips with my CR-V,
the consumption of animal crackers and tortilla chips with salsa,
the homework sessions, the use of toilet paper and dishwasher detergent,
the tripping over the shoes and backpacks.
But, this morning, this laundry day, as I surveyed the laundry area and turned the clicking dial
and popped out the knob on my super-capacity washer, here's what happened.
I contemplated my burden through new eyes.
And I chose to delight in the surplus.
Here's what happened.
Disheveled, yet sorted piles of darks, lights, whites, and reds patiently wait their turns to be bathed.
Empty hangers dangle in delight as they anticipate their turns for service.
The washing machine hums a happy song as the socks slosh around with the shirts.
The buttons on my hubby's favorite shirt rhythymically tap the inside of the dryer drum
as it whirls its way dry.
I concluded, that along with the excess labor came excess love, joy, hugs, and laughter.
This clothing, these towels, napkins, and pillowcases
are tokens of time spent sharing our lives with one another.
Maintaining these necessary belongings is part of my valuable commission and calling.
So, now, as I listen for the buzzer to sound and mark one more load complete,
I notice that the rain pelting the window has never sounded more melodious,
the fabric softener has never smelled sweeter, the spare sock basket has never looked more content,
the lint leftovers have never been more luxuriously fluffy,
the capacity of enjoying what I've been given has never been more super,
and I, as a homemaker, have never been more aware of my worth.
