When I make choices to engage in something bigger than the dailies–like a wedding–I’m fairly good about considering the consequences of those decisions.
Our daughter’s wedding last weekend was a wonderful event that far exceeded expectations. The groom’s parents were incredibly helpful and generous. The weather became spectacular as the day progressed. Friends and family made it a time of genuine connection and celebration.
We’d had a budget. (That’s code for “Make good choices.”) There were areas we knew were necessary to invest in; the photographer was a reflection of a well-thought through decision. And there were areas we knew we didn’t have to be quite so extravagant.
Tablecloths fell under that heading.
Almost three years ago, when Melody and Chris got married, we found it wasn’t much more expensive to buy tablecloths than it was to rent them. Being of a semi-sound mind and an eye for using them again, we purchased over 30 tablecloths. Silvery grey. They went well with Melody’s color palette–and about nine other weddings since then.
We’ve been able to bless others with our wise choice of purchase.
It was logical, therefore, to assume that using these tablecloths for Courtney and Michael’s wedding would be a sound money-saving decision.
Which begs the question: How do you assess the value of time, energy and convenience?
It took two fifty-pound suitcases to haul those tablecloths to Colorado. Thankfully, John has status on Delta.
They looked lovely–but we then had to repack them dirty into the suitcases.
Now they need to be laundered. The stains treated before I put them in the wash so they don’t set.
I’ve already done six loads. The pile doesn’t diminish.
What makes it complicated is that, being of height-challenged stature, my short arms aren’t up to the task of folding them properly. And if they’re not folded well, it’ll make it more difficult to make them flat once they’re needed again.
Dirty laundry never ends. The basket never remains empty for long.
There are areas in my life that I’d love to see cleaned up. Once and for all. Bad attitudes. Snarky comments. Gossip. Hurtful words. Things I feel like I’ve been cleaning up for years that keep returning to that basket of my dirties. The never-ending bin of my bad.
It doesn’t seem to matter how much I work on these issues. How much I treat them with good intentions and wise words. Every time I check, there’s something in that dirty laundry basket that I have to deal with. Forgive. Forget. Make right.
God has already dealt with my unending dirt. Once and for all. In Jesus.
“Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:7
Completely clean. Whiter than new-fallen snow. That’s how God sees me. Because of Jesus, I’ve been cleaned perfectly. Once and for all.
I wish I could do that with my laundry.
Second photo courtesy of imbd.com.