Ponder: At camp or away at school, in those apartment dwelling years of youth or old age, clothes get washed and dried in borrowed machines. Over and over, through the toss and the collapse, they come clean. What to do while the cycle runs? Imagine a thousand other people killing time to the drone and squeak of soap operas and rolling basket wheels.
Pray: God, you late-night laundromat attendant, staying awake and making change: Tumble this cycle into a communal prayer. We are not alone in our dirt or stink or boredom. Toss the lot of us through the water ‘till we come clean.