Ah, Mt. Washmore. I climb this mountain on a weekly basis!
I don’t mind doing laundry, as it tells its own unique story of my family, one week at a time, year after year. I miss the days of onesies, teeny tiny socks, small striped shirts, and footed pajamas…evidence of the two precious gifts God has given to me. As I washed away spaghetti stains, I was thankful that we had food to eat (still am!). Grass stains were evidence of outdoor play and fun times as a family. Soon, pink leotards and white taekwondo pants found their way into the mix. My children are growing and becoming the people God created them to be. As I stand and fold, I pray for them and wonder what God has in store for their lives. I pull my husband's dress shirts and slacks out of the dryer, and am thankful for how hard he works to provide for us. Over the years, God has brought him back to us from every concert tour, safe and sound. I never take that for granted. Every now and then, I’ll pull his pants out and a blue sequin will be stuck to them, and it makes me smile. My daughter is entering her pre-teen years and currently loves “bling” on her clothes. I sense a new “chapter” starting…
Yes, laundry tells the story of family…we live and move and tumble through this life…
Together.
