The lie we believe that our work lacks honor, skill and prestige
I can remember as a little girl dreaming what it would be like to be a grownup, specifically a mom. We didn’t have social media or Pinterest back then, so we mostly just looked to our own moms and the mothers of our friends to form our own expectations and dreams about what life would look like when we ran the show ourselves.
The truth is that until you walk in the shoes yourself, there’s just no way to know exactly what you’re getting yourself into. There’s unexpected trials and joys around every single corner, and no two motherhood experiences are exactly the same. Basically, there’s no handbook for this.
So much of what we do as mothers is mundane. It’s thankless and forgotten and seemingly insignificant. Retrieving the toy that went too far underneath the couch. Hanging up clothes in the closets. Pre-treating stains before they go in the wash. Emptying the dishwasher. Not exactly the sexy career you dreamed of when selecting your major.
Nobody notices these things at all. In the first few years of my motherhood, this was extremely frustrating to me. I’d let resentment build up that nobody was appreciating my stain-treating efforts and the result was an explosion on my poor husband when he walked in the door.
I reeled in my day-to-day; feeling lonely, misunderstood and mostly, unappreciated. My value from what I was DOING with my life seemed non-existent. And when we think ourselves to have no value, we spiral.
But God was working underneath the surface. He was revealing to me an idol that I’d carried with me for my entire life. The idol of self. The lie that my value lay in my contributions, in my efforts and my works. In my life as a nurse, there are plenty of times when I’d feel unappreciated or frankly abused. But there are always people throughout your day who express gratitude for what you do for them. There’s always one (or two if you’re lucky), who speak life into your service and your role. I had no idea just how much I was worshiping that praise. It had become a drug for me. And when I took off that career hat, I was left with a serious identity hangover.
To top it off, while nobody notices our menial and mundane, everyone notices when they aren’t done. Welcome to motherhood. From the moment when that little embryo attaches itself inside you or the moment when that adoption form is finalized, you are signed up for a lifetime of servanthood. Of pouring your energy, time and heart out for the people you love.
About 18 months into my “Stay-at-home” mothering experience, I was reminded of a simple truth that I had known all along, but had forgotten along the way. What audience was I performing for? The audience of my husband, who, even with the best of intentions, would fall short in his appreciation and exhortation? The audience of my child, who was barely speaking 50 words? The audience of my friends, who were bogged down themselves and seeking the same life-giving encouragement that I was missing?
No, none of these sources were going to satisfy.
Everything we do must be for an audience of One. Everything inside our home and everything outside of our homes. This will change our entire perspectives and allow us to graciously serve imperfect people.
Our Divine Role
This answer came to me one day when I was reading in the very first chapter of Genesis. Before sin entered the world. Before the great fall that has caused heartache and destruction ever since. There’s a command that God gave to his two beloved humans during that short span of time when brokenness wasn’t yet a reality…”Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.” These two things, filling the earth and subduing it...these were God’s perfect intentions for us. These were not a part of the curse that came as a result of sin.
I noticed something else that became a gamechanger in how I saw my role as a mother...did you see it? Even before sin, the world still needed subduing.
I can think of no other role on earth than that of a mother who is upholding and daily living this ideal state of God’s intention for our human race. By definition, mothers are fruitful, literally...by birthing other humans; and filling the earth with a new generation. And by definition, we spend our days subduing the world around us. Managing, preventing, anticipating and providing the remedy for the chaos around us. Subduing strong wills, subduing defiance, subduing rebellion.
Once this expectation shifted in my mind, I found the mundane parts of motherhood to be more meaningful. I didn’t harbor bitterness and resentment at my husband anymore when he didn’t walk in the door at night and notice the freshly scrubbed toilet. He was no longer the one I was directly serving, he was indirectly receiving the benefits of my service to the Lord in the role He’d called me into.
I'd also like to switch gears because I've made a big deal out of the importance of what mothers get to do. Not only is what we do so very important, it's also so very wonderful. We get to do the most dreamy things. The baby snuggles. The afternoon baking sessions. The comforting. The reassuring. The pretending. We are the apple of their eye for such a short time. Not only is this role gloriously, divinely important. It's gloriously sweet.
I’ll post a PART TWO to this post later this week for practical tips on things that I did to perceive and experience JOY in my role as a housewife/stay-at-home-mom. I had a big mountain to scale in this arena, but the very first step was this crucial perspective shift. Something that I needed to remind myself of multiple times daily, repeating truth in order to ingrain it in my rebellious and selfish heart. So if you find yourself resentful, exhausted and bitter, this is completely for you. Open your eyes mama and see the glorious, ideal and essential work that you are doing day in and day out.