:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

Staring at a dryer and two baskets full of laundry to fold, I cursed the curse of laundry. I hate folding laundry, even if I must confess my love for neat and orderly drawers of the stuff.

I began to ponder how laundry is like some kind of terrible affliction. And then I considered the fall of humanity into sin and the ramifications of Genesis 3:21:

“The LORD God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them.”

It’s as if God kicked Adam and Eve out of the garden and into a laundry mat. While handing over the animal skins, I imagine God saying, “This is going to annoy you a whole lot more than it’s going to annoy me.”

Oh, for the days of the fig leaf.

In the end, the stubborn rebelliousness of humanity, our penchant for seeking power and control ensured that we would spend countless hours washing, folding, and putting away our clothes. How ironic it is that one residual effect of the fall into sin ensures we have one more tedious thing to do.

While standing in the garden last night in the cool of the evening, checking on the progress of our tomatoes, lettuce, and swiss chard, I sensed so much peace and comfort. It was as if Eden had come again to our yard, with blossoming irises, cosmos, marigolds, and pansies. And then I looked down at my mud-smeared jeans and thought of those cursed laundry baskets waiting for me.