Mystery

Originally uploaded by laundrylessons.

Yet another mysterious item found its way to the bottom of my washing machine. The presence of this red ball struck me because I’ve never seen it. You know how most things that float through your house have a discernable origin, like, a favor bag from a birthday party or the neighbor kid left it or grandma brought it last visit or it belongs with that magic kit under JP’s bed. Moms usually know how everything gets into the house. We’re the sentry standing guard at the door. But I’d never seen this red ball. And how and why was it in the wash?

Some things are mysteries. I’ve come to understand that there is beauty in mystery. But unlike children, most of us adults balk at the curious. We are programmed to know when and why and where and how. And we’re expected to know too. Our kids ask, our husbands ask, our friends ask and we have answers. If we don’t have the answer we google it, or call a friend, or make an appointment with someone who does know. We don’t like mysteries.

But when I saw the ball, I was reminded of the beauty of the unknown. I feel small in the presence of the Colorado Rockies, stopping to marvel at how the earth moved to form such grandeur. When Graham, my nine year old suddenly understands the concept of fractions, I wonder how and when and why the neurons aligned to allow him to learn. And as if the mysteries of this earth aren’t enough, then I feel dwarfed by the magnitude of all I don’t understand. How God exists and spills love and beauty and sorrow and grace into our lives keeps me questioning too.

But it’s hard to appreciate mystery when we google it away. Mysteries are becoming endangered. I can zoom on a satellite and see my house from space, science has taken the wonder away from events that just a decade ago were unexplained, and my boys are fascinated with the latest explanations of the true identity of the Loch Ness Monster and Big Foot.

So the little red ball is staying with me in my laundry room. I know how to bake soufflés and where to find the roll of masking tape and what the mitochondria do in a cell, but I need a reminder that I don’t know everything. When we give ourselves the opportunity to stop and wonder, then we’re rewarded with a slice of peace that comes in those moments of stillness. And the funny thing is, I find those moments gift wrapped in the laundry room, the place I loathe. Yes, God works in mysterious ways.

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