By Greta Urso 
I just finished folding 13 loads of laundry. No exaggeration—if anything, I’m underselling myself because some of the laundry baskets were overflowing. The laundry room was so full of clean laundry that it was difficult to even get to the washing machine, dryer, and folding table.
I finished folding that last load of laundry and experienced a rush of satisfaction. Finally. I’d finally caught up on laundry. I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief and accomplishment, only to have my ears remind my brain that yes, that is the washer and dryer still running. My shoulders dropped. I still had two loads left.
My heart fell.
Is this IT, Lord?!
Is THIS the grand plan You have for my life?
This mundane, repetitive, easily forgotten work that swallows my days?
As the dryer buzzed and I pulled out the next load, the scripture: “aspire to live quietly, work with your hands…” came to mind. Later on, I found it in 1 Thessalonians 4:11, and Paul expands further on this principle in 2 Thessalonians:
“Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and earn their own living. As for you, brothers, do not grow weary in doing good.” (2 Thessalonians 3:12-13)
Brother Lawrence also comes to mind. He was a 17th-century monk assigned to work in the humble monastery kitchen. His writings continue to inspire me—the beauty of how he found God repeatedly meeting him at the kitchen sink.
Might God also meet me at the laundry basket?
In the pickup line at school?
Over the stovetop, stirring another pot of dinner that my kids will likely complain about?
Yes, He does. It’s one of the most breathtaking mysteries of walking with the Lord: that the One who holds planets in alignment, causes seeds to spring forth in life, and continues the beating of so many hearts I love, He also chooses to stand next to me as I fold. Right in the middle of the mess. He slings an arm over my shoulder as I wash. He laughs with me in the car full of kids. He steadies me as I scrub the shower tile—again.
Could this be a part of the secret to a fulfilling, joyful life: not escaping the ordinary, but letting it become sacred? How can it be? That He would see and value these insignificant moments of fulfilling duties—that He would care enough to turn them into moments of worship?
He doesn’t only call me to “not grow weary of doing good” but gives me a place to rest when I see weariness on the horizon of my heart. I’m not meant, and was never meant, to face these tasks alone. When I remember that, and draw near to the presence He is always offering me, I am given sanctifying peace.
Lord, cause my heart to draw back to you in my moments of weariness. Remind me that these clothes, dishes, and cleanups can be opportunities to come close to you. Help me to submit myself to you every day, in every action. Don’t allow me to miss these moments with You, Lord. Take my humble submissions for Your Glory and never let me forget who it is I’m doing it for. Thank you, Lord, that You see me. You see all I do and hold it in great value for Your Kingdom. I may not understand how or why, but thank you for your love and friendship. May I always turn all the glory back to you. Amen.
Originally published on the author’s blog
by Courtney Devich 
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