Welcome back to another musing about seemingly ordinary things that lead to the extra ordinary thought of the week. The weather has certainly been getting cooler. I can’t believe that soon the snow will fly and I’ll be writing about getting stuck in snow drifts again. We closed up the pool for another season… I say “we”, but the hubby did most of the work. We just pulled and secured the tarp. It took less time this year than last, so we must be improving our technique. My pallets are still sitting on the driveway. I did finish staining the porch pew and a chair (one to go!) this week, though. I say, do you have to rake leaves if you live in the country and nobody really cares about your lawn? Sigh. So many mundane things to do.

One of those is the never ending laundry pile. Why? Why do we have so much laundry? There are four adult people living in this house. The dog rarely makes any extra laundry. Why are there so many towels? Who is using pool towels when the pool hasn’t been used for weeks? Nevertheless, the goal this weekend was to get through the piles (and piles) of laundry. I didn’t count how many loads we did, but the machines were running non-stop. We finally fluffed, folded and put away the laundry! Gold star!

How come we don’t give out gold stars on chore charts for adult households? Perhaps we should implement that as acceptable once again. Bonus points for matching the sock bag. I have a “sock bag” where all the lost socks get dumped. This weekend I purged the sock bag once again in an attempt to get those bonus laundry points. Am I alone in this? Why do we keep mis-matched socks until they die? Most are perfectly good socks. Some in that bag are not good at all, and they are likely in that bag because I have tossed the holey partner long ago. I am sure there is a sock in that bag from when my youngest was about five years old… it certainly is cute but won’t fit anyone. For some unknown reason, I put it back in the bag.

Now, I am all for reuse and recycle, and believe you me, I have searched lots of ideas for single socks… but who wants a sock puppet to take to school when you are eighteen and the sock is a nylon dress sock with pink flamingos flocking it? The eldest of our kids has a sock obsession. She has a sock with every character, food group and funky colour. She no longer lives at home and the flamingo socks do not belong to her. I rest my case.

Still, I promised supernatural from the mundane… which leads to this week’s musing. As I sat on the living room floor surrounded by my mismatched sock collection, I thought about God up in heaven sorting out all His people. Have you ever thought about God’s collection of people? Some are “holier” than others. Some colourful. Some fuzzy, some knee high long, some short ankle sock with sports logos. Some are practical and keep you warm. Others are nylon with pink flamingos that are all fad. Like socks, we often get separated in the wash. We loose touch with those who are like us. We start out as a great pair, or a complete package of ten pair, fresh and new from Christmas morning, ready to last all year.

Then. We get grass stained, dripped on, sweaty and overworked. Stretched out to the point where our elastics fail and we slide down inside the winter boots of life – defeated. Or tossed aside in the lost sock bag. For some of us, that’s the end. We’ve done our job to its fullest and God says, it’s okay, it’s your time to go now, let a fresh pair take over that stinky job. Or like that five year old’s pink sock, you get put back in the bag because although your job may be done, you are celebrated for the memories and make a mom smile at what was once. It’s a funny feeling when you find a bunch of matches in that pile, though. The adrenaline rush of the housewife who finds a full cotton pair of sports sock with not only similar stripes but the same stripes and logo on heel and toe! Those socks get put in the keep pile with big plans for a full day of toe tapping work ahead!

I know, it’s a silly muse. Socks. Faith journeys. Everyday life. Yet, it’s real. It’s a thing we can all relate to, and I hope that you’ll take a second look at who you’ve been perfectly matched with, and know that that person was hand picked out of the pile for you. And if you are still waiting in the bag, your time will come. Or if your time has come, know that you will be remembered for your crazy flamingo memories and your cozy winter morning snuggles. Happy laundry day, everyone.