The Laundry Can Wait

There’s a mountain of laundry on the dining room table. Still warm from the dryer, still waiting to be folded. I walked past it—more than once—while the milk warmed in the microwave for my chai.

I didn’t fold it. Not because I forgot. Not because I didn’t have time. I just... didn’t.

And honestly? That’s okay.

My day started like most of them do. Logged in early, chai in hand, answering emails and getting ahead of the schedule. I sat at my desk, not the deck—though the deck is lovely when I get the chance. But this morning? It was emails, not birdsong.

I used to think rest had to be earned. Like I needed to run a marathon of productivity before I could sit down without guilt. That I needed an empty sink, a clear inbox, and a swept floor before I could take a deep breath.

But life keeps teaching me something different.

Even when the job is going fine, the bills are paid, the big boxes on the life checklist are marked off—there’s still a whole world of little things pressing in. The messy table. The inbox that grows faster than I can click. The internal drive that says, just do one more thing before you sit.

But sometimes, the bravest thing is to sit anyway.

Today I let the laundry sit so I could gather myself instead. I sipped my chai at my desk while the day crept in, and I prayed a quiet line I’m still learning to lean on:

Lord, help me be okay with enough.

There was no booming epiphany. No sudden burst of clarity. Just the decision to let grace speak louder than the guilt that wants to hustle its way into every corner of my life.

So no, the laundry didn’t get folded today. And yes, the table’s still covered. But I showed up for my work. I drank my chai. I prayed my prayer. I kept going.

That counts, friend.

If your day feels crowded or you’re quietly carrying more than you planned to—here’s your

permission to set something down. Maybe the laundry can wait.

The grace won’t.

—The Rusted Sparrow