Laundry Day.

Laundry Day. Why do I dread doing laundry so much? I watched women in Bolivia use amazing strength scrubbing their clothes between their wrists, dunking, whooshing, lifting, scrubbing, dunking, whooshing, lifting, scrubbing...again and again in an effort to clean their family's clothes. Then they hang the clothes out to line dry...no need to fold. They're wearing the only other load of clothes to be washed. This load that's hanging out to dry will go right on their backs. Yet I dread laundry with my two efficient machines and sufficient clothes for an outfit per day and then some. I dread laundry, except today. I haven't finished the laundry (thank God there isn't a load mildewing in the washing machine), but for the last half hour or so our wonderfully imaginative boys have been playing in the little hangers. And without a sufficient supply of clothes and modern conveniences, I would not have a basket of hangers for my boys. We hang our boys' clothes to avoid the chaos that drawers create with small clothes. In turn we have two little guys who LOVE the hanger basket for different reasons. Nathan gets lost in himself as he methodically empties the basket one fistful of hangers at a time. He explores the empty basket, examines the spewed out former contents around him, then equally methodically tries to return the hangers to the basket. They never all make it back in...nor do the ones that were returned ever stay there for long. Alex, on the other hand, in a sea of like hangers will come up with just the right one and exclaim, "Mommy, I found my hanger!" I wonder if it's really the same hanger as last time. Does it have a special groove or nick that only the discerning 3 year-old could find? That's right...he's three. How did that happen? He's gone from the emptying basket stage to the ownership of one special hanger stage as fast as everyone said time would travel - in the blink of an eye. Today laundry is not so bad. The clean up will be an inconvenience, but I am so grateful for the clothes that overflow our drawers, closets, and hampers, and for the lovely hands that make the mess. I can handle the inconvenience as we wait for Justin's grand entrance from a day at the office. Soon I will hear "Daddy's home!" and Alex will scramble out of my lap (yes, he's now in my lap playing with office supplies as I type). Yet I dread laundry. God is so good. It's when I have moments like these that I feel the urgency to get to the mission field - not so I can provide Peru with washing machines for all, but so I can be part of an organization that will help bring clean water, so that washing clothes will really WASH the clothes. And maybe one day, they too, will have a life that's not so hard, and they can watch their kids play with hangers - hangers that hold enough clothes for the week.

Praise be to God.
Gillian