Sunday, December 7, 2014

The Laundry Room is My Prayer Closet

It is early. I am up before the sun but I've given up on sleep.  I slip into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee.  The gentle clinking of my spoon swirled through the mug rings loudly in this quiet house.

I warm my hands around this mug as I walk to the laundry room.  Setting my coffee down on the dryer I get right to work.

I fold laundry when I'm stressed.  Or angry.  Or when my heart is heavy with the things that hurt.

This place is where I hide when I need to cry and vent and learn to breathe again.  The laundry room has become my prayer closet.

My hands are busy sorting and folding and my heart feels free to be real with God.  I have cried to Him so many times over the battles I'm fighting, the pain, the worries, the fear.

As I chip away at this mountain, the gentle humming of the dryer creates rings in my coffee like stones skipped across a pond.  It's a peaceful place for me.  A place where my dirty chaos is brought into beautiful order.  It's a place where I let God take the mess of my life and wash it all away, giving me a fresh start.

The hamper is empty (for the moment) and I've poured out all that needed to be said.  The sun is filling the sky and my children are filling the house with their noisy energy.  My heart is no longer carrying this heavy load but full of peace.

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