Laundry Liturgy + Beach Packing

laundry on laundry, a liturgy, and maybe a beach newsletter next week

Author

Brooke Mousetis
July 16, 2025

Hey Hey —

Okay, so like… you’re not crazy — you definitely didn’t miss a newsletter last week. 🫠 Things felt a little wild over here, and it just never happened. And somehow, here we are again, another Wednesday later.

Right now I’m packing for the beach, and honestly, I feel like the only thing I’m wrapping my head around this week is laundry. (Like, how can small humans generate this much laundry before we’ve even left for a trip?! 😂)

June’s musical last week was so fun — I’m so proud of her and all the kids. (And thank you to a handful of ya’ll who came out to see the show!) They worked so hard and it was truly amazing. But between that and prepping for this trip, it’s been all laundry, all the time.

So today, I figured I’d just pop in with the liturgy I personally need most at the moment: a liturgy for laundry. (Maybe you could use it too?)

Also, just a heads-up: next week’s newsletter is TBD — maybe I’ll write from the beach, maybe I won’t. We’ll see what kind of rhythm we settle into over there.

And one last thing — I had intended to send out a Q&A-style newsletter last week with your questions and responses (because you all sent such great ones!), so if you want to reply to this email with anything you’d love to see included in a future issue, I’m still gathering replies!

Thanks for being here — even when it’s just a quick, laundry-filled hello. 💛

🧺 A Liturgy for Laundry

To the God of hidden faithfulness,

For the baskets that overflow

and the socks that disappear,

For the repetition, the boredom, the blessing—

I give thanks.

I bring You this basket again.

Again and again.

These are the mountains I face today:

a pile on the floor, a basket on the stairs,

a dresser waiting to be filled.

Let them be offerings.

Let them be sacred.

For the dirt that says they played,

the smears that prove they ate,

the stains that mean they’re learning—

thank You.

Still, I confess: I’d rather be doing anything else.

I forget this matters.

I forget I matter in it.

That folding is care.

That sorting is service.

That this slow and quiet rhythm

is shaping something more in me.

And on the days I wash the same load twice—

because I forgot to move it over,

let me not pile shame atop wet pajamas.

Remind me: You are patient. I can be too.

When I finally fold

what feels like the hundredth towel,

help me picture the day

You’ll wipe every tear.

And when I leave the baskets sitting clean,

but not yet put away,

remind me this task—like all of motherhood—

is rarely finished in one go.

You are the God who wraps us in righteousness,

making all things clean, again and again.

Let it be so.

That’s all I’ve got in me today. Grateful for you! 🙂

Still here — in the middle of the middle,

Brooke

P.S. You can reply to this email if you’d like! Would love to hear from you. :)

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