Who Likes Linen?

My daughter didn’t ask me to do her laundry. I was in her home only to watch my granddaughter Olivia for the day, but when I heard the dryer stop, I thought I’d fold the batch of clothes for Monique. Once in laundry room I found more clothes that needed to be washed and began the project. By the time Monique got home I was almost done. I’d tell you how many hangers my husband had to buy and bring to me so the clean clothes wouldn’t get wrinkled, but then I’d have to tell you how many more I should have asked for, and Monique may not appreciate me airing additional dirty/clean laundry information.

            It was really no trouble compared to the way my Memere did laundry. Her washer was an open tub with a wringer attached. Each item had to be hand fed through the wringer to squeeze out the excess water, loaded in a basket and carried outside to be hung on the clothesline. Yes, I’m that old and I only added that little memory to delay revealing my laundry mistake which I finally remembered to tell Monique.

            “I ruined Frank’s white linen shirt by accidentally washing it with dark clothes. It’s now the first stage of pink.”

            “That’s okay. I hate that shirt.”

            “How can you hate a white linen shirt? It’s classic.” I later asked if she hated seersucker too. She doesn’t. Only linen because it wrinkles. I  insisted she bring the shirt to me, with the other white clothes I didn’t have time to wash. My laundry expert and husband assured me he can restore the shirt to its original color, or lack thereof.

            I love linen. In addition to being cool and comfortable, it was God’s fabric of choice for the priests who ministered in the tabernacle. “When they enter the gates of the inner court, they are to wear linen clothes… they must not wear anything that makes them perspire.” Ezekiel 44:17-18.

In the inner courts, work gave way to worship; physical labor ceased as worship to the Lord began; relinquishment of self bowed in reverence of God. And on the occasions when I enter into that place of directed devotion, I find the peaceful revelation that my labors are fruitless unless they are His anointed plans.

Challenged by the often quoted phrase, “When man works, man works; when man prays, God works,” I seek increased times of worship, not to be relieved of actual labor for that has it’s time and place, but to simply honor God. Is it possible, even in the busiest of days, to set aside a time of prayer and worship? I think so. No sweat.