In her book, "An Altar in The World," Barbara Brown Taylor suggests looking for the 'more' that is sometimes called God, in the "red X under your feet..." or in my case, in the laundry basket that is before your eyes. I woke up to a mountain of dirty laundry today. The basket was not only heaped-over, but also overflowing into a colorful jumble on the floor. I did not greet this awareness with dread. Although doing the laundry does not necessarily fill me with joy, it does give me a certain sense of accomplishment. Seeing the pile transformed from an unruly, disorderly jumble into a display of clean, neatly folded or hung clothes is a weekly experience that is unlike much of the work that I do.
Most Fridays, you will find me at home, immersed in the process of creating the pieces that will become a service of worship on Sunday. It is a process that, like my laundry basket, can often appear unruly, disorderly, and a colorful jumble. By Sunday, I will bring the pieces to church, where they will become an offering that may be anything but neat and tidy. But that's not what it's about, is it? When we come into the sanctuary, we bring with us the colorful jumble that is our lives, not so much so God can bring order to it....but so that we may experience more of God, loving us and working with us in the midst of it.
I've been thinking about how I might experience more of God in this season of Lent. In my life, I have experienced more of God by reading what others have written about God. I have discovered more of God by talking with others about the things that matter to them. I have found more of God in the labyrinth and in nature. My experience of God has been shaped and changed by encountering people whose own life experiences have been quite different from mine. Through prayer and meditation, through acts of service and various other spiritual practices, all of this has led me to experience more of God.
This year, maybe I should just do more laundry. Which is to say, maybe I will find more of God in the colorful jumble that is my life. Maybe I will experience more of God in the bending, lifting, and folding. Maybe in the fragrance of the laundry detergent. Maybe in the empty basket, waiting to be filled again. Maybe even the smelly socks and wrinkled shirts will speak to me of the God I have come to know in Jesus, who never shied away from the messiness and unruliness he encountered.
Where do you suppose you might find more of God?
Blessings, on the Way,
Cheryl
