The large oversized crisp white sheets danced gently to the early morning sounds of the small happy birds on the sturdy homemade washline fastened securely to one end of the newly built 1966 farm house. The other end secured to a solid grey post living securely in the fresh smelling summertime dirt.
There was nothing like it to awaken the senses; a feel good that reached for the senses into the depths of the soul it seemed. The sun smiled brightly on each one individually it seemed, hugging each sheet from corner to corner.
The day had begun bright and early as did most days at Grandma’s house on the farm. Each pile of laundry sorted to perfection so as to get the best results, each plunged into hot or cold soapy water depending what was needed to wash away the stains. The wringer completed the next step, squeezing out most of every last drop of water.
The whites got whiter as the bleach and grandmas hands worked hard to create the magic of as close to pure clean as it could get. Grandpa’s barn clothes were good as new again after each Monday morning wash day. But nothing soothed the soul like the sight of the fresh white sheets billowing in the summertime breeze, teamed with intoxicating freshness that escaped from each long slow flap of each sheet.
Every Monday they were all new again it seemed after all of Grandma’s hard work, ready to embrace those who would rest in them nightly.
How refreshing to the body and the soul. It was just the thing to face each new day with a sense of having had a good night’s rest.
How grateful am I that “Wash day” only had to happen once and only once for my soul and spirit. Not every Monday.. not even every day. Our God washed away our sins once and for all …and made us whiter than snow.. and grandmas sun bleached sheets.
Whiter and brighter than any weekly, Monday morning, wringer washer, sun kissed, bleached sheets could ever be.
The Rest He gives us far surpasses those seemingly heavenly fresh smelling, body hugging, sun kissed, bleached sheets.
The choice is ours whether we accept His once and for all “wash Day” or continue our weekly self effort, weekly Monday “wash day”…only to have to do it all over again.
Our weekly “wash day” affords us no rest. It rests on us to scrub our own soul and spirit which is truly impossible.
The works in every Monday wash day will leave us exausted and always needing another wash.
Today, put to rest the weekly Monday wash day…and choose His ultimate wash day…
Wash Day… Circa Eternity ♥️