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LAUNDROMAT MUSINGS

Updated: Jun 15, 2021

Observing the Fabric of our Lives

I've been taking a few days to write a difficult blog. It has been rolling around in my head with about a thousand different other things. My head sometimes reminds me of a washing mashine. Everything going round and around while I ponder the significance of it all and wonder what to do next. Sometimes I'm in the gentle wash cycle where everything just goes around at a nice even pace. Then I enter that frantic rinse cycle where there is so much spinning out of control that I often can't sleep. Crazy that those spinning cycles seem to happen in the middle of the night. Just one of those mysteries I need to speak to God about at a later date.


Sunday is my wash day. My apartment complex has laundry facilities, but it is hit and miss when they will be functional. If one washer works the dryers don't. If all the washers work then only one dryer will work and there will usually be a three hour wait unless you get up at 4 a.m. I've been fighting the management on this for two years. I surrendered and opted for a more expensive weekly trip to the laundromat, now that I am working full time again. The whole process takes about an hour.


Today as I sat watching my laundry, I did a bit of people watching. The place was a buzz with families, old men, old women, young men, young women all speaking a language familiar but foreign to me. I watched them interact with each other, chasing little ones around the room, talking on their cell phones, and having friendly conversation. I was definitely the odd-man out in this crowd. But I wasn't uncomfortable. We were all there for the same reason. I am reminded of the olden days when women would take their clothes to the local stream, wade in and start doing the wash. No, I'm not that old, but movies depicted this, and it always seemed to be a community or at least a family project. With the dawn of the washer and dryer, we sort of lost that community wash day. Laundromats are a place to have that for some. Maybe this is why some communities of people are closer than others.


As I watched today, I noticed a young man in his early twenties or so, as he was intently watching his load turn. It hadn't been in the washer very long, and was just starting to suds. He got up, went to the machine and dumped two more caps full of soap. He went and sat down and continued watching his machine. He got up again, and I almost stopped him, but it was amusing so I let him go. Apparently there were not quite enough suds for his liking. One more cap full. He hesitated, would he put in another? It was after all the largest machine. I was watching but trying not to be obvious or laugh out loud. He decided against that final cap full and sat down. Pretty soon his clothes disappeared in the suds and he seemed satisfied. I'm sure his mother would be proud of him.


My own laundry was turning a happy turn in a minimal amount of suds and I wondered just how well those pods work. I was a bit embarrassed by my bra making a show of itself in the window. I do dislike show off garments. It is one thing to have to wash your unmentionables in a public facility but to have your Wonder Woman underwear and her counterpart bra hang out in full view in the window like it is party time, UGH! I almost got up to put more soap in my machine too just to hide them in a white foamy sudsy mess. I decided against it as I couldn't figure out how many pods it would take to make a smoke screen. I realized I don't care who knows I secretly believe I am Wonder Woman. Does it matter?


Now Imagine Jesus at the laundromat. No seriously, I have to because, well, that is the blog after all. I think he would be surrounded by the children. I think he would not have to worry about soap. He would understand everything that was being said. He would probably even talk to everyone in their native tongue before he left. He might even have smiled at the young man like I did, and helped the mother whose little girl just tried to make a break for the fifth time. He would have watched the soccer match and cheered the goal. Maybe he would walk around and touch each machine so that every wash and dry would be free. He probably would have helped to fold clothes, sweep the floor and empty the trash. He is after all a servant. Of course these are all just the musings of an imaginative people watcher.


Please share. We all need a bit of humor. My next blog is a bit more challenging to my own heart. Don't miss it! Sign up today. Thanks for reading.


John 13:8 "No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”


Psalm 51:2 " Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin."


Mark 10:45 " For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”



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