July 16, 2009 4:23 PM
Discover the clothesline: save money, stress less
I can't explain it. Maybe it's because I was already predisposed to find spiritual contentment while handling my family's laundry. I did, after all, write in Lord, Please Meet Me in the Laundry Room
Day after day, I'd think I'd get a start on developing a spiritual life, and day after day I'd fail. My days were already way too crowded, but even when I'd carefully plan some quality time with God, something unexpected would set me back - from small things like runny noses and broken plates and stitches, to major events. As when two-year-old busiest-boy-in-the-world Benjamin brought in a garden hose to water our green carpet - just like Daddy and the grass! - causing a tidal wave which left behind pulled-up soggy carpets and a week of roaring turbo fans."Honey, the hose is for outside only," I'd said calmly, removing the hose and walking it outside as though this wasn't one of the greatest domestic disasters I'd ever seen. It wouldn't help to get mad at my little boy. After all, Ben was driven by every toddler's desire to serve, the same one that moved him to shovel all the ashes from one fireplace and try to carry them to another. No way he could possibly understand what he did was wrong.
So, yes, I was calm. And any mother who's had to clean up the consequences of a child's innocent attempts at helping will know what I mean when I say how proud of myself I was for not losing it. Moments like that at least made me feel like I was on the path to becoming a good mother, though there was always plenty to keep me humble.
But would I ever become the believer I wanted to be? Evidently not with little people like Ben consuming every available minute in my life.
One day in the laundry room, while wrestling with the lights and darks I wrestled with my dilemma. Oh, Lord, I thought, is there a prayer closet somewhere for me? And what about this thing they call quiet time?
Aren't you praying now? This question was wordlessly impressed upon my heart. It was a question, but it was an answer. And I hadn't expected an answer, so it caught me off guard. But I knew who it came from.
Yes, but Lord... and things began to spill out of my heart that I hardly knew were there. They spilled out even as I was realizing how much He already knew.
I didn't have to tell Him how hard it was to feel like a lightweight when others had more spiritual muscle to flex. He already knew.
I didn't have to tell Him how much I wanted to be the best I could be, and how far from the best I often felt. He already knew.
I didn't have to tell Him how much I missed the afterglow of the decision that changed my life forever, now clouded by my frustration with my inability to jump through the hoops I thought I should. He already knew.
I didn't have to tell Him that no matter what, I would follow Him. He already knew.
I didn't have to tell him anything about me, because he already knew everything there was to know.
But since I knew He was listening, I told Him anyway. And somehow He gave me an answer. Somehow He made me understand that a mother of toddlers just isn't like anyone else. Most of the time, my life was not under my own control at all, but more like a series of random events. It was in how I responded to the events that my spiritual life could be measured. As when I handled Ben's indoor garden party so well. That wasn't me at all - so patient, so calm, such the good mother - but me stepping aside to let God respond as the perfect Father.
I was okay just the way I was, as long as I wasn't content to stay that way, but willing to grow - to grow through pouring out my heart to Him and waiting for answers impressed without words on my heart. Finally, I understood it wasn't at all about a set aside quiet time - especially at this season of my life - but more about prayer that required nothing other than my willingness to pray.
Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables - my second favorite book after the Bible, and like the Bible a great tale of redemption - once wrote, "There are moments when whatever the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees." My soul was truly on its knees that day as I wailed to the Lord. I was in a desperate way. Yet that day I learned I didn't have to wait for desperation for my soul to kneel.
And so my laundry room became my prayer closet. For years it's been the place I meet the Lord each morning before my children awake, and at intervals throughout the day as I transfer clothes from baskets to washer, from washer to dryer, from dryer to baskets again. In those twelve and twenty minute snatches, I found my quiet time.
Anyway, I haven't found it hard at all to transfer that peaceful feeling to the great outdoors. In fact, I love it even more - the fresh air, the sound of the trees and the music of the birds. I love the neditative quality of hanging the clothes.
And yes, the towels are a little scratchy, but so what - as a friend pointed out, it's not wors, just different. More invigorating - and I think more absorbent too.
Anyway, I bought my clothesline from Amazon and Tripp dug a hole to put in the special holder which allows us to take it out if we want to - or if our landlord wants it gone when our lease is up.
In case you're ready to make the change, here's how I got started:
And I know the line paid for itself in less than a week with money saved on electricity and chemical-laden softener sheets.
Posted in Downsizing, Inspiration, Practical Info | Permalink
Comments
Thanks for this timely post. I have two little ones and lately I have really been wondering how I can get close to God again when it seems that I have no time. I needed this reminder to use the little snatches of time alone to talk to God and not always wait for specific time alone. Thanks!
Posted by: Jessica Brammer | Losing The World | July 16, 2009 6:07 PM
What a wonderful post. I think every mom with littles struggles with the "no time to pray" issue. I don't have any choice but to hang the clothes outside, as we do not have a dryer (I live in Japan, and that's the norm here). Sometimes I forget to use that time well, and get grumbly about it. Thanks for the reminder! (I have actually gotten to where I love the rough towels -- they really do absorb better!)
Posted by: Sue | July 16, 2009 8:02 PM
We live in NZ and it's very common to line dry washing here. I do have a dryer (just since child number 2 was born as we have quite wet winters here), but try to avoid using it.
I also enjoy hanging out my washing on the line and bringing it in - it's just nice outside hanging it out. I grew up helping my Mum hang out the washing, so perhaps I just like it as it reminds me of my childhood days! She hung clothes on the big line and I pegged smaller things on our wire fence (just in the months when the grape vine wasn't growing all over it!!!)
I'd encourage everyone to give it a try!
Cheers, Wilm in NZ
Posted by: Wilm | July 17, 2009 1:23 AM
Barbara
I love this post.
On my first visit to the USA over 20 years ago I felt everyone was laughing at me when I hung clothes outside on the line! It just wasn't the done thing!
Here in Ireland its an every day household task.
I love going outside and seeing what the day is like. Its usually one of the very first tasks I do in my day.
The only down side is I have to watch for the rain showers....even in summer!
Love to you....Linda (LinMac)
Posted by: Linda McBride | July 17, 2009 7:21 AM
