Stuffing a ratty t-shirt into the washer’s maw, I try not to think about the fact that it was only yesterday that I hung this very same t-shirt on the clothesline. The laundry is never done — even though we are down to a family of four these days. How in the world did I survive eleven years of cloth diapers? Apparently, somewhere along the way I have discovered that there is Glory in the Ordinary, that there is meaning to all the mundane tasks that are stuck on replay in this mothering life. So when Courtney Reissig compared her laundry hamper to her husband’s overflowing inbox at work, I stopped and underlined, and nodded, “yes and amen.”
My soul resonated, too, when she argued that in our ordinary chores and in the act of corralling chaos into order, we image God.
“You and I were created to work because…
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