Holy Laundry

I'm currently reading Barbara Brown Taylor's book, An Altar in the World. Today I read the chapter on incarnation, called "The Practice of Wearing Skin." Besides many thoughts about the holiness of our bodies, it contains a paragraph about laundry. This passage spoke to me because washing clothes is one of my primary job functions here at home.

She writes: "Hanging his laundry on the line becomes a labor of love. I hang each T-shirt like a prayer flag, shaking it first to get the wrinkles out and then pinning it to the line with two wooden clothespins."

I feel as if I do laundry all day every day. It is a never-ending process, and though I don't mind it, I often don't think of it as spiritual. So this morning when I was folding Adam's shirts, I shook them out like a prayer flag and thanked God for all our blessings.


This summer, Rev. Nancy Allen taught a Bible study called Holy in the Ordinary. It focused on reverence in our daily lives. In that study, she played this song for us and copied the lyrics. I have referred back to it many times and thought other mothers might get something out of it.


The Gathering of Spirits
Carrie Newcomer
2002 Lyrics

Holy As A Day Is Spent

Holy is the dish and drain
The soap and sink, the cup and plate
And the warm wool socks, and the cold white tile
Showerheads and good dry towels

And frying eggs sound like psalms
With a bit of salt measured in my palm
It’s all a part of a sacrament
As holy as a day is spent

Holy is the busy street
And cars that boom with passion’s beat
And the check out girl, Counting change
And the hands that shook my hands today

Hymns of geese fly overhead
And stretch their wings like their parents did
Blessed be the dog
That runs in her sleep
The catch that wild and elusive thing

Holy is a familiar room and the quiet moments in the afternoon
And folding sheets like folding hands
To pray as only laundry can

I’m letting go of all I fear
Like autumn leaves of earth and air
For summer came and summer went
As holy as a day is spent

Holy is the place I stand
To give whatever small good I can
The empty page, the open book
Redemption everywhere I look

Unknowingly we slow our pace
In the shade of unexpected grace
With grateful smiles and sad lament

As holy as a day is spent
And morning light sings “providence”
As holy as a day is spent

Carrie Newcomer 2001