I was at Wal-Mart last week, and I did something that would have shamed me in front of, maybe my mother, and most certainly my grandmothers, my great-grandmothers, and all the rest of the women and many of the men in my ancestry.

I bought rags.

I know it says “Multi-Purpose Cleaning Cloths,” but, really, it’s rags.

Ser-i-ous-ly. Buying rags!! Who buys rags? From my ancestors’ point of view–NOBODY!! Who doesn’t generate enough rags to handle all the household, gardening, and car tinkering jobs. (Remember when folks worked on their own cars in their backyards or driveways? Cars are so complicated these days that the experts really do need to be the ones in charge.)

When we moved into this house, I inherited some rags left over from my mother’s cleaning days. She (and the cleaning ladies, in later years) used them on the mirrors, because they didn’t leave lint. Pieces of men’s worn, white undershirts. The ones I still have, and use, are really getting old, holey, raggedy. (But should all rags, by definition, be raggedy?) My problem is that David doesn’t wear white undershirts, like my dad did. I don’t have a nice supply of incoming used-up undershirts just waiting to move into the “cleaning rag” category.

Another source of good rags that dried up years ago–cloth diapers. One of the perks of getting the last kid potty trained was that all those diapers moved into the rag bin. I used and used and used them. Astonishingly, I have a couple that are still useful…at least for a while. Lots of babies wear disposable diapers these days. Those who don’t are often wearing a modern-style diaper cover/removable insert system that I don’t think is going to lend itself to a transfer to the rag bin, after the diaper-wearing days are over.

House cleaning does take a toll on the rags. But some also fall away after furniture refinishing, paint cleanup, shoe polishing, and other messy sorts of household work. I tossed several of them after the most recent furniture reclamation project.

Rag-tag pieces of cloth from my rag bin

On the left, a couple of old diapers, looking as though they were part of a wood-staining event. At the upper right, a tattered, used kitchen towel, now a cleaner of bathtubs. On the right, a couple of those undershirt shards. And at the bottom, a wonderful square of two flannel pieces, sewn together with zigzag stitches. It was part of a wedding gift from someone who knew what a new bride might need–stuff to clean with. Sometimes I dust with a feather duster, but sometimes with this. It’s still quite usable, I guess because harsh cleaning products weren’t ever involved.

Old clothing today doesn’t always lend itself to being cut up and used for wiping up messes and scrubbing away dirt. Too much man-made fibers in the fabric keeps them from being as absorbent as would be helpful. So, I’m reduced to shopping for “multi-use cotton towels.” I’m sure they’re going to do a bang-up job around the house.

Here is another message to Jeremiah from the Lord:

 Go down to the shop where clay pots and jars are made, and I will talk to you there. I did as he told me and found the potter working at his wheel. But the jar that he was forming didn’t turn out as he wished, so he kneaded it into a lump and started again.

Then the Lord said: O Israel, can’t I do to you as this potter has done to his clay? As the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand.

Jeremiah 8:1-6 (The Living Bible)

I think it might be all right, if there’s nothing in the house that can be repurposed into a functional rag, to buy “cotton towels,” or “cleaning cloths,” or something that’s really meant to do housework (or yardwork, or shopwork) in its original condition. I’d like to think that I’m always ready to used by God in my original condition, but I imagine it’s more likely that I’ve been reworked, more than once, and maybe will need to be again, to be thoroughly ready to be used completely.