Love In The Laundry Pile

In March this year we welcomed our fifth child into the clan.

And, as with the advent of any newborn, our laundry pile dramatically increased. Jumpsuits, singlets, muslin wraps and bassinet sheets fill our dirty clothes baskets, or soak in our laundry tub, with frightening regularity.

Each day at least two loads of washing are hung out, though not always brought in that same day, and I feel as though I’m constantly folding and sorting clean washing into piles for each of our seven family members.

But believe it or not, I’m delighted by this.

Overflowing baskets of washing, clean or dirty, mean that my house is full of busy and active little people. Little people we treasure and nurture and observe growing every day. Little people whose take on life is so different from our own and whose escapades at times frighten and delight us.

Oodles of newborn washing means that our baby arrived safely, is healthy and is at home with us. Sometimes I think we forget, or take for granted the blessing of children.  We, personally, have been blessed by five pregnancies and five healthy babies.  We have not experienced the loss of a child, the pain of a miscarriage and for this I am most thankful. My heart, however, goes out to those who have.

School uniforms awaiting ironing show that our children are blessed to receive an excellent education, academically and spiritually. How many of us barely pause to consider that we are fortunate to have been educated at all when others, in less developed countries, will never get that chance? Or that we have so many options as to how we educate our children and can decide on schooling options based on our preferences and situations?

My husband’s work uniforms represent his role as breadwinner and his toil to support and provide for his family. We are blessed not to go without, and even when money may be tight, we know we are more fortunate than others for whom finances are a constant source of stress and tension.

So perhaps my laundry pile is large at present but its fullness represents much more than a stack of soiled clothes. My laundry basket, like my home, is overflowing with love.

In my sleep deprived lows I might not fully appreciate what it is I have, but even in such moments I still recognise that my family are much more precious than sleep, even if that same sleep is oh so tempting. I do not look forward to the day that the piles of laundry decrease as my children leave the nest, as much as less laundry sounds appealing, because my home will be emptier.

So bring on the laundry I say, loads and loads of it!

Because, like the laundry, I pray that love is a constant presence here.

And that my house is always overflowing with it. 
 

Originally posted 2016-07-12 03:14:41.