The Laundry Psalm

Dirty laundry.  It's a very real part of my life with three hard-playing, dirt-loving children. 

Monday is laundry day at our house: the kids sort it, I run up and down the stairs six or seven times to transfer the loads, fold or hang, and place the warm, clean items in one of four baskets. On Tuesday, the kids match socks, fold towels, and put it all away.  We have a slick system, and in the middle of the homeschool day, I don't mind the occasional retreat to the laundry room. 

I wish I could say I pray for my children as I fold each shirt and try to figure out whose underwear is whose, but I'm more likely to play a Miss Piggle Wiggle game...to imagine how efficiently I can get the job done before the sinister queen comes to analyze my work.  Miss Piggle Wiggle has been more inspiring to me than any of the self-help authors I've read on home organizing.  Truly.  She's a psychological genius. 

But what about the other dirty laundry?  The inner-grime.  The dirt I can more easily hide.  Did you know God wrote a laundry psalm on David's heart?  It's not a particularly fun one to read; you won't be thanking the good Lord for knitting you in your mother's womb or for creating the firmament with His mighty hand or for leading you to quiet waters.  Instead, your face will be right up in the smelly armpit of your own stench. 

Now don't x-out of my blog quite yet! 

You get to read of being washed clean and snowy white, like the warm, fluffy towel load spilling from the dryer. 

I sometimes like to memorize whole psalms.  I chose this one, Psalm 51, to write on the tablet of my heart on Monday.  I am memorizing the NIV version, but this morning, I opened up The Message version out of curiosity.  Wah-lah...the laundry metaphor.  Eugene Peterson, you were thinking of all us laundry washin' mamas when you translated this passage, weren't you?

Psalm 51

^1-3Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record.
Scrub away my guilt,
soak out my sins in your laundry.
I know how bad I've been;
my sins are staring me down.

^4-6 You're the One I've violated, and you've seen
it all, seen the full extent of my evil.
You have all the facts before you;
whatever you decide about me is fair.
I've been out of step with you for a long time,
in the wrong since before I was born.
What you're after is truth from the inside out.
Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life.

^7-15 Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean,
scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life.
Tune me in to foot-tapping songs,
set these once-broken bones to dancing.
Don't look too close for blemishes,
give me a clean bill of health.
God, make a fresh start in me,
shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.
Don't throw me out with the trash,
or fail to breathe holiness in me.
Bring me back from gray exile,
put a fresh wind in my sails!
Give me a job teaching rebels your ways
so the lost can find their way home.
Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God,
and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways.
Unbutton my lips, dear God; 
I'll let loose with your praise.

I think I will print this version and post it in my laundry room.  Won't that upset the wicked queen!