camille pissarro

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Homemaking ~ The Ministry of the Laundry

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Laundresses at Eragny, Camille Pissarro, c. 1901

The mountain rises every day, not just in its elevation, but in its girth. It is a mountain of socks with holes, t-shirts and sports shorts, of faded school uniforms, denim jeans too small, and kids’ shirts now too tight, mixed in with bedsheets, pillow cases, and tablecloths. We sort through the piles of laundered items to separate the items that fit from the items that are ready to be bagged up and ushered forth into the wonderful world of The Thrift Shop. The socks who’ve lost their matching pair are tossed into the lone sock drawer in the laundry room. One day, I’m sure I’ll go through that drawer and find all the pairs have been reunited in there over the years. Different seasons have called for different methods of managing the vast amount of laundry our family has used.

The baby years called for inordinate amounts of stain remover as I tried to rescue onesies from their unavoidable destiny of blowouts. (This is why new babies need a large supply of onesies for the first several months.) The toddler years saw my efforts for putting away folded clothes thwarted as my little ones loved pulling clohtes out of dresser drawers as soon as they could pull themselves up! During our seminary years, we were so busy with our four little ones and my husband in classes, that the laundry pile went onto the floor during the night, and back onto our bed during the day. The clothes always got washed and dried, but they didn’t always make it into neat and tidy folded stacks, and very rarely got put back into dresser drawers.

As our children grew and acquired more responsibilities, I would have them go through the clean laundry bins and pull out their own clothes and put them away (folded or unfolded, it didn’t matter, as long as they were in their drawers). They now regularly wash, fold, and put away their clothes properly… almost. I think we have finished training our children in laundry management.

Can there be beauty in washing the laundry? I would argue, yes, and I will state my case plainly. First, have you ever wondered where this clothing comes from? Which fabrics they are made from? How those fabrics got produced in the first place? And what plants or worms were the source of those fabrics? If you are like me, it is all so very fascinating and worth a good think! I want to look at fabrics with the intelligence of a worker who knows which plants these fibers have been culled from, and how to work with these fibers to make them last as long as possible. The fabrics that clothe my family are worth getting to know. It makes a difference to understand fabric and how to preserve and protect them for longevity. Its a type of stewardship, and yet not entirely a naturally enjoyable task, as any monotonous type of work creates this challenge. May I refer to the thorns and thistles of Genesis 3:18 & 19? Can we see beauty in something so tedious and mundane? Something I have loved to do in the last few years is to find beautiful works of art to inspire and enhance my domestic duties, to make it more of a creative act of beauty, than just a mundane task on my to-do list each week. If you’ve read this far, you are hooked! Hooray! A like-minded soul! Carry on!

One of the artists that best captures the beauty in the ordinary is artist, Camille Pissarro. I discovered one of his works one day while rummaging through the art and empty frames section of our local thrift shop. A sense of wonderment overtook me, almost an adrenaline. The name in cursive letters below the print was C. Pissarro. The painting I found was his piece titled, “The Hermitage at Pontoise” which portrays a quaint little village scene in the town of Pontoise, France. This painting is now reframed in our living room, prominently placed beside the piano.

Camille Pissarro was an impressionist painter who saw beauty in the ordinary tasks of the men, women, and children of his time, so much so that he sought to capture the experience of ordinary moments of daily living with the brushstrokes of his genius. Ordinary became art. Duty became beauty. Passing moments became opportunities to create with light and color. Not only are his works wall worthy, but they give me joy in the beauty of a hidden and quiet life.

“Known as the ‘Father of Impressionism’, Pissarro painted rural and urban French life, particularly landscapes in and around Pontoise, as well as scenes from Montmartre. His mature work displays an empathy for peasants and laborers,” -https://www.camille-pissarro.org/biography.html

In 1 Thessalonians 4:11, Paul urges the believers in Thessalonica to “make it your ambition to lead a quiet life and attend to your own business and work with your hands, just as we instructed you…” (NASB).

Although I still prefer to do other things than fold the laundry, it’s also something that must be done. Nowadays, I fold laundry while listening to an audiobook or podcast so that my mind is engaged as well as my hands. I’ve found pieces of art that inspire me to do the work, enjoy the work, and watch as beauty is unfurled as a result of the work. Below are some of my favorite creative works that inspire me to do the duties the Lord has called me to and to find beauty in the mundane work that must be done. Other artists and musicians have found the glory in the mundane and have written songs about it. I find in these creative expressions, voices that articulate the worth of these domestic duties and puts their glory on display. Even the German poet, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe believed these sentiments when he wrote the famous line, “Cease endlessly striving to do what you want to do and learn to love what must be done.”

Since today is a day of much laundry: clothing, towels, bedsheets, and preparations for a guest, it seemed like the perfect timing to share this little message. I hope you enjoy and find beautiful ways to adorn your necessary everyday tasks of this life God has given you to steward.

Art

Woman Hanging Up the Laundry, Camille Pissarro

Painting by Lilias Trotter

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A Little Night Music in September - Your Labor is Not in Vain

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Camille Pissarro, Apple Harvest, Éragny, 1888, oil on canvas, Dallas Museum of Art, Munger Fund

Camille Pissarro (1830-1903) - Apple Harvest, Éragny, 1888, oil on canvas, Dallas Museum of Art

I have a rare morning to myself. The weather is cooler today, the flies are not invading my home at the moment, and I’m sipping earl grey tea with oat milk and honey. I am beginning to think of sweaters, slippers and crafting, a few of my favorite Fall things. A friend gave me a couple of her acorn squash which are going to beautify our family table for now. Eventually we will roast them along with other contributions we have pulled from our church gleaner’s basket. The gleaner’s tradition started in our second year as a church plant. Gardens tend to grow very well in this fertile soil, and many have an abundance of produce. Sharing it with each other is a fun tradition and keeps us mindful in providing for others. At the beginning of each potato harvest, one of our church families brings bags of russet and yellow potatoes from their farm for everyone in our church. When there is a harvest, there is rejoicing.

When we moved into our house a few years ago, we were pleased to find a small, old apple tree. However, it looked tired, and we assumed it must be a leftover fruit tree that had run its course in some long-forgotten era of an orchard on this property. Perhaps we would keep it just for looks, for a little needed shade, and a climbing space. In that first summer, we found a bird’s nest in the tree. With many kittens being born the following spring, the birds must have found a new home to build a nest, perhaps higher up in our blue spruce.

I didn’t know how to take care of an apple tree. There were a few apples here and there, but they had holes and we threw them to the chickens. That year, I naively pruned the tree right back, in fact, right to the stubs. There were only about a dozen apples that year. "It must be old,” we assumed. But it gave a place of respite from the sun and was a good starting point for our garden. We would keep it, even if just for its beauty.

I didn’t prune it at all this past Spring. We were busy and tired, and besides, it was a tired, old tree. “It’s probably stopped producing,” we would say, accepting its fate based on our presumptions. As the spring and summer months continued their course through the calendar year, we saw little green apples growing on our poor old tree, a lot of them! I was thankful that we could at least use them for the chickens. It would save us money on buying chicken feed. The apples grew larger and more plenteous, and whenever I stopped to observe them, I was struck by how many were growing on the tree! “What is happening here?” I’d muse. In mid-summer, the middle to lower branches started to bend over from the abundance. And then, the apples started to drop! But, low and behold, they were actually delicious. Again, I was pleasantly and curiously surprised. But should I be? Someone at some time had planted a seed. We were pruning it as seemed good enough to us. We were cultivating a living thing. Why was I so surprised that something good had been produced?

Our apple tree, 2023

My first plan was to give all the apples to the chickens. We had not sprayed the tree with bug-defying chemicals, so most had at least some effects of other creatures trying to partake. But some of them were quite perfect. Soon after, I decided to do something with these apples, something for us humans. All in all, we gathered an estimate of probably one thousand apples from our vibrant and life-giving tree! One Saturday morning, we all contributed to the gathering, collecting, picking and pruning. My youngest was up in the branches, pulling at hard to reach apples, and reciting lines from the classic audiobook of Winnie the Pooh. Where there is a harvest, there is rejoicing.

As we worked, the line from the song A Thousand Shores by Leslie Jordan played through my mind:“You give and You give, and still there is more…” It struck my heart with the love and generous provision of our Maker, our King Jesus. It was a living picture of His abundant love, overflowing grace, and joyful willingness to provide.

A couple of ladies from church came and helped me process this abundance of apples. In four hours of work, we made 3 pots of apple sauce. On a different day, I made 2 other pots of apple sauce. Later, I made an apple pie at the request of my pie-loving son, and apple chips in my dehydrator. I was able to give away a few bags of apples as well. When I think of all the people these apples have blessed, I smile knowing God grew those apples for us, for them, for their families and little ones. This apple tree brought beauty, a small patch of shade, a respite from the scorching summer sun, a place to hang a hammock, a playground to climb, as well as nourishing us and our friends, providing conversation, laughter, and time to build relationship around good and hearty work.

The song I share with you this September is Your Labor is Not in Vain, a song for workers, a song for the planters and harvesters, the arborists, the gatherers, and the gleaners. Our God is with us, and even apple-picking is not in vain in His fruitful Kingdom!

“The vineyards you plant will bear fruit

the fields will sing out and rejoice with the truth,

for all that is old will at last be made new:

the vineyards you plant will bear fruit.”

Your Labor is Not in Vain, written by Wendell Kimbrough, Paul Zach, and Isaac Wardell