I am thankful. I am thankful for the laundry.
I guess I have a love-hate relationship with my laundry.
Most days I am distinctly ungrateful for the piles waiting to be cleaned and folded.
But today is one of those days when I’m thankful for it.
I’m thankful for the laundry on the days when the writing won’t come.
When my mind is full but the page remains empty.
When the page is empty but my fingers are still.
When I’m desperate to accomplish something the laundry is there. Waiting.
It waits for me. Quiet and still. Waiting to be accomplished.
I think it’s lovely how the laundry has a defined beginning and end.
It’s a such a beautifully simple step-by-step process.
Wash. Dry. Fold. Put away. Done.
How often I have considered the final breath of Jesus.
With it he spoke “It is finished.”
He had accomplished his task.
He accomplished much.
I know my task is not laundry.
And my task is not writing.
These are just two of the ways I accomplish my real task.
My real task is the same as His.
To glorify God. Daily.
To know each breath is of and for the Lord Almighty.
Even to the very last.
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