“Wash” | Reflection by Sarah Woodford

My 100-year-old grandmother died last summer and I inherited her collection of merengue-like 1960s loungewear. Housecoats and slips and nightgowns that would have made Doris Day envious. They were tucked away in a drawer—a tidy regiment of sherbet-toned pinks, oranges, and blues. 

On the corner of a particularly floaty light blue house coat were long streaks of peach nail polish. My grandmother, being a child of the Depression and a young woman during WWII rationing, didn’t have the heart to throw it out. Instead, she laundered it the best she could and set it aside for some future purpose. I also thought the house coat was ruined, but a combination of nail polish remover and warm water soon washed out the stains.

As the water swirled around the blue material and down the drain, I thought of the power of water. It can bind us to the past. It can connect us to the daily routines of those we love. It can wash away what seems impossible.

This Maundy Thursday we contemplate Jesus washing the feet of his disciples—feet caked with the dust of days spent walking, ministering, and healing. This simple act of love bound them together as a group and connected them through a daily routine. And, reminds us that even the impossible can be washed away, leaving room for renewal and new life.

I wear my grandmother’s light blue house coat nearly every week, now. I don’t know what my wardrobe would be without it.