I washed every sheet in the house today.  Six loads.  I was thinking of my grandmother while I was doing it and how she had to get wood, light a fire, hang the old iron kettle, scrub everything on a washboard, dump out the water and fill it again to rinse everything--then wring it all out as best she could and hang it on the line to dry.

And we complain.  What a blessing a washing machine and dryer are.  When I got married, I didn't have a washer or dryer so I did the wash in the bathtub and hung it on a line outside.  But even at that, I didn't have to build a fire to heat water and I could do everything inside where the weather was good.

Sometimes our lives need a good scrubbing.  We get into a habit of doing things like we have always done them, when we need to make a change or two.  Like finding a convenient time to read our Bible.  Like forming a habit of talking to God.

I have been going through the "Drawers" that I told you about and am amazed how much needs to be thrown away.  But for eleven years, I have been stuffing things in those three drawers that I didn't know what to do with, and never looking at any of it again.

I am putting things away in the cabinets.  I have to develop a new pattern.  I have to figure out where I have put things.  It is all strange.  But it has been wonderful asking myself, "Do I really need that?"  As a result, I have filled up boxes with things I don't really want.  Or need.  Or ever use.

My grandmother told me, "Honey, I didn't have it so hard.  When I got through with the wash water, I just threw it on the floors.  There were so many cracks between the boards that the water ran through to the dirt under the house.  But the floors got a scrubbing.  You girls have such nice houses, you have to wax your floors.  We didn't have anything, so there wasn't anything to take care of but the animals.