I took time to do some ironing this morning and it was glorious. How could that be, you wonder? It was the Lord; He is glorious.
I used to “take in ironing” for money when I was a teenager, and I’ve enjoyed the task ever since, at least, when I’m not in a rush. I liked to set up my ironing station in the living room occasionally so I could watch a baseball game on TV with my husband at the same time. I would in a leisurely fashion catch up on pressing all his work shirts, and my own clothes, which often needed it, too. I know, there are lots of women these days who Don’t Iron. I am not very current that way.
Today I was alone, and I didn’t consider multitasking because I didn’t think I’d be at it very long. The sun was streaming into the great room which I had just rearranged and tidied up, so that is where the ironing board landed. When people are sleeping in that room it gets moved all around; I don’t have a dedicated laundry room.
Today I did quite a few placemats, napkins, and handkerchiefs. I noticed the differences in various qualities among the napkins. The paisley napkins Pearl sewed to go with some teacups she gave me. They are perfectly square with meticulous stitching, and the fabric is good quality, easy to press smoothly.
The checkered napkins are ones I made eons ago of soft and thick fabric, nice for wiping one’s chin, but they are not well-sewn or uniform in size or shape. It’s so heartening to have one’s children rise above their examples. The green napkins I bought, and they are of terribly wrinkly and coarse fabric that takes a lot of pressing and steam to get into shape.
The plaid handkerchief is one of many I sewed for Mr. Glad from an old skirt. The fabric is soft and thin enough, but so strong that the handkerchiefs I made have lasted for years and now I am using them myself.
As I was working the wrinkles out of skirts and napkins, I thought about what I had read yesterday on Fr. Stephen Freeman’s blog post, “An Unnecessary Salvation”:
That Christianity in its classical form has always had an instinct for “all things,” is evidenced in the use of “all things” within its services and sacraments. And when those uses are examined, what is uncovered is a “seamless garment” of salvation. Nothing is “by the way.” I have made the statement from time to time with catechumens in my parish that we could begin with the smallest thing, a simple blade of grass, and go from there to give a full account of the entirety of the gospel. It could also be said that if an account of the gospel excludes even so much as a blade of grass, then it has been seriously misunderstood.
I knew that this morning I was being saved by ironing….and I was glad that I could be ironing in peace, in the presence of God, singing my prayers, and my feet weren’t hurting ! and also, I have the best ironing board. I tried to buy an ironing board for one of my daughters a few years ago and I was appalled at how rickety they all are now. I haven’t seen or used one as sturdy, heavy and stable as mine in decades. No wonder women don’t want to iron, if they have to work on flimsy equipment.
The light coming into that room must have made me think of the song, “The Lord is My Light and My Salvation,” and from there, a really old one we sang in the Jesus People days, “I Saw the Lord,” which, as I remember it, continues:
I saw the Lord, sitting upon a throne:
He is high and lifted up,
And His train fills the temple.
He is high and lifted up,
And His train fills the temple.
The angels cry “Holy!” The angels cry “Holy!”
The angels cry “Holy is the LORD!”