The laundry room, in a children's blog, really? Well, this musing is for everyone, children's workers included. And it is free, so it fits the frugal part of this blog.
Most hometown papers has several columns written by local contributors. Ours has one called, "The View from Hickory Hill" written by a woman whose home is located on, well, Hickory Hill. She shares her viewpoint on all manner of things from class reunions to haying to hand-me-downs.
One day this past summer, while we were in North Carolina on a medical leave of absence, I was inspired to write my own column...in the laundry room. So I thought, if Miss Hickory Hill can write a column about the view from her home, I can write one about my view from the laundry room. I have named it, "Musings from the Laundry Room," just in case I ever get inspired to write another post while in the laundry room.
Our own laundry room was right in our apartment in Chapel Hill, complete with a new washer and dryer and wire shelving on an entire wall. One day while I was doing the wash, I pulled the bottle of Purex laundry detergent from that shelving and a memory came flooding over me. I had gone to the Walmart in Chapel hill by myself to buy that bottle of detergent because I knew I could get the size and brand I wanted there. I remembered the heat. I remembered clearly where I had parked the car. I remembered the traffic when I left the parking lot. But most of all, I remembered it was well over a month ago that all of that happened. We still had a lot of time in Chapel Hill. Leaving to go home was not even on my mind that day at WalMart.
As I set about washing towels for perhaps the last time in Chapel Hill, and as I poured out the depleting liquid into the lid, this wave of emotion just came over me - like when you are at the Jersey shore in the ocean, and you don't see the wave coming up on you until it is too late. It came out of nowhere and its dark shadows spread over my spirit that had been so gay a moment before. Our time in North Carolina was almost gone. We were leaving in six days.
As I stood there with the bottle in hand, I felt how we cannot hang onto anything, I felt the fleetingness of life and moments. I felt my total lack of control over any of it, try as I had to hold onto all the moments and seize the day. The day was still coming that we would have to leave. A sadness hung over my spirit. And then I was comforted by God. Strengthened by the knowledge that come what may, God will never be moving or leaving or changing or depleting. He is a surety, a stability - one I can anchor my soul in. The rock that is higher than I am. He is the ONLY sure thing in my life, or any of our lives. But what a surety he is. And my soul was opened by the warmth of his love and presence and the knowledge of who he is that will always be by my side.
No wonder that David wrote in the Psalm 62:
Hear my cry, O God
listen to my prayer;
from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I,
for you have been my refuge,
a strong tower...
I don't know what life has brought your way, but I do know that none of us can control it. I hope that you have found the rock that is higher than you are and are anchored in Him so that come what may, you have anchored your soul in God. When those moments come - and you never know when they will - remember the one who never changes and pray with David, "lead me to the rock that is higher than I." Thank God that because of who he is, he IS higher than us, he IS a rock and he can ALWAYS answer that prayer.
