Do you find tremendous wisdom and insightful metaphors in some of life’s most mundane tasks? Sure! (you probably responded). So do I. The problem is, I can get REALLY PUMPED and passionate when I stumble on one that sums up many difficult life issues in one simple picture. For me doing laundry does just that. Let me explain.

A number of years ago, I slowly woke up to the fact that all of those piles of laundry didn’t magically wash, dry, fold, iron, and put themselves away. My spouse was dutifully working behind the scenes seeing that we all had clean clothes. Being the "90’s kind of guy" I am (choke), I began assuming more and more responsibility for the wash. I would check out the laundry room upon returning from work to see what needed done. At first it was no big deal. Except for the occasional pair of pink jockey shorts, I didn’t do too bad. My goal was to keep on top of the piles so that they didn’t grow too large and get away from me. I enjoyed the sight of a laundry-less laundry room, all neat and picked up with everything in its place. Then an amazing thing began happening. The laundry chute began to dispense dirty underwear, towels, pants and shirts ON IT’S OWN!! No lie! I know this has to be the case because there was no way on earth four people living in one house could produce as much laundry as was descending down that possessed chute! At first I was mildly annoyed, but when my neat and tidy laundry room became defiled not less than 30 minutes after I’d just washed, dried, folded and put away five loads of laundry, I knew I was dealing with the domestically demonic. Eventually I became proficient in smelling clothes. My one son believes just touching a shirt soils it thereby requiring it to be pitched down the chute. His high standards also serve the dual purpose of his avoiding having to fold the item and return it to the drawer. As a result, I began sniffing laundry to screen out "worthy wash" from the "unworthy" variety. Unworthy offerings are secretly refolded and put back. (Shhhh!) A tumble or two in the dryer for a once-used bath towel saves gallons of water. Heloise and Greenpeace would be proud!

Over time, my ritual of trying to stay ahead of the never-ending tide of dirty laundry led to an involuntary knot in my stomach every time I walked past the laundry room door. Despite my best efforts, I knew there were piles of sheets, towels and sundry other clothing items just lying there, waiting for me, laughing at me behind that door! My system to stay ahead of the wash was simply a "wash out."

Then it dawned on me. (No, burning everything that found its way down the chute wasn’t the answer, although it did have its appeal for a time.) The insight for me was how alike life and laundry were. Despite our best efforts to stay ahead, life keeps relentlessly imposing new piles of issues, problems, responsibilities, deadlines, and stuff needing our attention. We sometimes manage to "clean up" our little corner of the world and we naively believe we have the power to keep it that way. No such luck. The minute we turn our backs, (Plop!) down comes a new pile of problems for us to attend to. We can scurry around and pour ourselves into trying to eliminate the piles that we or others have dumped on us; all the while growing resentful and bitter over the imposition. Or we can step back and alter our expectations.

Life produces dirty laundry. It’s a fact. The cleanest clothes in the world are on corpses. Life always keeps coming at us; much like laundry down the chute. We do our best to sort out what needs attended to immediately and what can wait. We try to avoid wasting ourselves over "life’s minors" so we can attend to its "majors." Or as Chuck Swindoll calls it, avoiding being mastered by the "tyranny of the urgent."

My real cleaning task was not on clothing, but on my perspective of the whole affair. How to keep my sense of joy and peace as I go about the continual stream of matters to which I must attend. I dare not stop and throw up my hands, for then problems will compound on themselves. One more American family will (gasp!) find themselves underwearless! So what’s one to do?

I realized that life (and Satan) have more "dirty laundry" to throw at me than I, in my own strength, have "soap" or time to clean them all. My strength fails, God’s doesn’t. So in His power I doggedly keep returning to the laundry room to tackle a couple loads. Through His strength I daily commute to my job to hammer away at those never-ending deadlines. Empowered by His Spirit I return to church to continue serving when I’d just as soon like being served. Girded with God’s grace I return home to open the mailbox pulling out a fresh batch of bills demanding my limited worldly wealth.

What I’m describing here is nothing more or less profound than persevering. Someone once said that success could sometimes be measured in just showing up. Edison cited genius as 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. (Hey, I bet all of that sweaty scheming soiled more than one of old Tom’s shirts! Ok, now I’m really stretching.) James, however, said it even better:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (James 1:2-4)