Eph. 5:20 , “…giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of Jesus Christ,...”
It was laundry day plus seven, so the piles were particularly high. After my back began to ache from bending over, I sat down on the concrete floor of the laundry room to finish the sorting. I was in one of those ugly, grumbling moods. Complaints I have enough self-control to not allow on my lips were nonetheless spinning about in my head.
This must be the 87th sock ball. Mommies know what sock balls are. They are the damp, stinky masses created when young children remove socks in their own special way and make a tightly-packed sphere. Of course, socks cannot be washed that way, so mommies, as they sort the laundry, must unwind each one. Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to teach a four-year-old to make sock balls if it was a necessary skill?
So I sat there cross-legged on the concrete floor surrounded by piles of laundry, the smell of my husband’s running shirts, well-ripened, in my nose, and even fouler thoughts in my head. Sigh.
Wait. Stop. “Giving thanks always for all things…” Thanks? For this?
It was then that my heart was filled with shame. Why do I have all this laundry to do? Because we have closets and drawers full of clothing—even enough to last us when the laundry gets skipped for a week. And I have a son who makes sock balls. A son! I lost two children before my son was born, and thought I might never have a child to raise. And now I have this beautiful child and I have the audacity to grumble about sock balls! Why do I have stinky running shirts to wash? Because I have a wonderful husband who is my best friend, my lover, my confidante, my provider and my protector. Lord, forgive me.
Then my heart was filled with thanksgiving, genuine gratitude for all that God has given me, all He has done for me, and all He has taught me about Himself.
Bless His name.
Be thankful to Him,
And into His Courts with praise,
Enter His gates with thanksgiving,