Blogs - Prayables Team Blog

Laundry + Prayer:  I Don't See the Difference

Darks.  Colors.  Whites.  I live in a condo-building, with shared laundry facilities, so sorting my laundry before I head down seems to save me a little time.

Today, as I sorted white t-shirts from dark blue jeans, I noticed my hope that hot water and bleach would brighten the tees... and that cool water would keep the denim dark and unshrunk.

I think I noticed this because, usually, my prayer-life falls into the dark or color piles.  Nothing too serious going on in the way of dirt and stains.  Scalding hot water and bleaching agents aren't needed.  Lukewarm suds suffice.  Thankfulness.  Thirst for growth.  Joy from creation.  Peace from loving relationships.  Matured faith from falling and failing.  This is the stuff of regular laundry.

There are days and seasons when heavy-duty elbow grease, and hard-core scrubbing action is required.  Today is one of those days.  A very close family member has been broken in spirit and heart for many years.  As she has slowly groped for the pieces of herself that have crumbled away, her life reflects the shambles.  Everything related to her well-being is in jeopardy.  And it completely fills me with red-alert-urgency that wants to fix... clean... rescue.

Whoa.  Those filthy whites aren't mine, but I have been (mentally) dragging them around with me as if they were a prized possession.  It's time to take care of this laundry:

An Enabler Asks for Help

Someone I love is buried
beneath fear and paralysis.
She has forgotten how gloriously You made her.
And I seem to have forgotten that Your love for her
far exceeds my limited version.

Forgive me for the many years I've rushed in to do Your job.  (As if!)
My trust in You has been wavering and impatient.
But how do I watch a train-wreck like this?
How do I resist the crazy urge to stand in front of the train
that threatens the life of my loved one?

Watching her suffer has moved me to act.
But has it moved me to sit and seek Your solution?

Not until now.  Finally.  The uncertainty scares me, though.
Putting 'my rescue-plan' on hold makes me feel uncaring
and negligent.  But I am actually trying to practice radical trust
in You.  Please help me be strong enough to be with her
without feeling responsible for her life.

This grip is horrible to hold, and so hard to release.

May my faith in You be sufficient
to stop this train, and get these filthy whites clean.

- Erika Harris