As a nanny, helping with infant twins and a four year old I learned to do laundry by rote. Then moved on to help with a family with infant triplets. Three loads a day seemed to be the minimum amount. I called it bringing order out of chaos. Doing laundry for our family of four was relatively simple after that.
Then our family dwindled to three and eventually just the
two of us.
I found when my adult kids were behind in their household affairs or in crisis, I could always do laundry for them.
When my son faced a recent health crisis, on many levels
there was little I could do to resolve the situation. But I could always do
laundry. Load after load, seemingly endless amounts of underwear then britches,
a few shirts, and bed linens. I can always do laundry.
The rhythm of sorting, loading, changing machines to dry the fabrics, then the meditative process of folding and sorting into piles. Yes, I can always do laundry.
Stain treatment is likely to involve the pent-up energy of
other unresolved situations, but the stains eventually yield, if not totally,
then enough to reflect my efforts.
Yes, I can always do laundry… and when I am too old or frail
to do laundry, hopefully my children will do the laundry for me. May I not
prove to be a burden to them or crisis for them to resolve.
Mark Buchanan wrote a book called The Holy Wild. Mine is copyrighted 2003. Ann Voskamp refers to it in 1,000 Gifts. I finally bought it and am loving every chapter!
He mentions that God makes only three promises with a guarantee. He guarantees that If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9
Also 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24 (NIV2011) “May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it. “
And he says God is faithful to get us home to Him citing, Luke 10:20 that our names are written in heaven. He writes, “It’s written there, not by your hand or by your work, but by God alone. None of it depends on you. It all depends on the God who promised. And He is always true to Himself.”
All of this was rolling around when I wrote about my house of cards augmented with Lotions and Potions. Psalm 71:5-9 (NRSV) For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O LORD, from my youth. Upon you I have leaned from my birth; it was you who took me from my mother’s womb. My praise is continually of you. I have been like a portent to many, but you are my strong refuge. My mouth is filled with your praise, and with your glory all day long. Do not cast me off in the time of old age; do not forsake me when my strength is spent.
The Lord did take me from my mother’s womb. My parents told the story that I was a “blue baby.” When my lungs began to work my Dad wanted to call me “Cherry”. My mother compromised with Cheryl. I began seeking the Lord as a child, especially after my Dad died when I was eleven years old. At first, I was likely trying to find a father-figure replacement. And wow, did I! The Father of Lights, holy and almighty. He assures me in Psalm 71 that he will not leave me now that I am aging.
I have been reading a book by Maeve Binchy entitled Echoes. In this book set in the 1950’s there is a character whose mother has crippling arthritis. I am thinking likely rheumatoid, because I have osteo and have some different symptoms. As my hands get weaker and lose their flexibility, I am comforted that so far, typing does not cause the discomfort that writing by hand does. Bob reminds me that there is software for dictation and typing out there, encouraging me to keep on with this writing discipline.
Though many times I write about “circumstantial, the insubstantial, the ephemeral. Do not rejoice in what can be here today, gone tomorrow, in things whose roots are in thin soil, whose footings are in sand” as Buchanan says. Though I sometimes write like that, I am hearing the Lord in that lovely bird chirping outside my window. The one I can hear but not see whose chirping seems to fit perfectly with the recording of “Verdi Without Words” that I am listening to as I write.
Do not cast me off in the time of old age; do not forsake me when my strength is spent.
Psalm 71: 9 New Revised Standard
And so my life goes forward, I am spending my writing life trying to put into words my life with God, the Holy Wild One, the God who walks with me on “My Companioned Way.” And as Kari Jobe sings so beautifully ..
Her lyrics are “You amaze me, redeem me and call me as Your own” and I would add “You amaze me sustain me, and call me as Your own!” The lyrics were written by Austin Davis, Ben Davis, Dustin Davis, Dustin Sauder, Grant Pittman, Kari Jobe, Marty Sampson and Mia Fieldes! That is a bunch of inspiration and input!
On rare and holy moments, I can feel God rushing over me. There is a sense of something other than myself at work. Acts 2:1-4 (MSG) says “When the Feast of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Without warning there was a sound like a strong wind, gale force—no one could tell where it came from. It filled the whole building. Then, like a wildfire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks, and they started speaking in a number of different languages as the Spirit prompted them.”
You know they had to FEEL something with all that movement. I recently bought the new Toby Mac recording called “The Elements.” The lyrics to this song caught my attention the other day. Hope it blesses you, too!
“Here am I, stuff of earth” is what I posted yesterday.
Today I’d like you to see illustration I made to go with the poem.
When our Savior was born He was placed in a manger where the animals usually fed. The manger might have been a wooden log that was hollowed out to hold the feed and hay. A humble beginning and the place where I await Him. Thus the overall shape above.
But the figure is me. Awaiting the Lord’s coming, His fresh in-filling, His power from on high. My heart is marked with the symbol of the cross: I am His forever. I am placed there as an infant. I am His child. I do not have the answers to anything. Receptively is how I am yielded for His will and ways for me. His power, courage and propulsion to fill me in making His dreams for me come true. May my very life be a gift to Him this Christmas and always.