This blog has been on my heart for a long time.
I so want to have God at the center of my day, ingrained in everything I do.
Dishes. Laundry. Making the bed.
This is my way of documenting the journey.
I’ve struggled with a complete loss of identity the past few years. Struggled to find my purpose.
Before Children (B.C.), I thought I really knew who I was and what I was about. I thought I knew completely my purpose in life, what gifts God had given to me, how I needed to use them. That was B.C.
After having my son, I felt God calling to quit my career as an elementary school teacher to be a stay-at-home mom and support my husband’s fledgling business. It was a scary time. Living on an self-employed irregular income is waaaaay different that a comfy little life built around a direct deposited teacher salary.
I was blessed with opportunity to rely on my Creator entirely for my needs. Aside from money worries, I realized I had no idea how to take things slow. I didn’t know how to savor life. Or play. I had never really developed any hobbies. What was I supposed to do all day?????
And I knew nothing about babies. Nothing. I had never even really held a baby before I held my precious son the day he was born. I was petrified I’d drop him. I wouldn’t even pee all day for fear something would happen while I was in the bathroom. And I couldn’t take him in the bathroom with me. Too germy. He’d surely get a pee germ and die from pee-itis!
I had to ask the Great Comforter to remove my fears.
And I quickly learned that keeping a house was a whole different ball game with a baby. I had envisioned myself lounging and reading books in my lovely, perfectly organized, sweet smelling home while my baby slept peacefully.
Didn’t quite work that way.
When I did the dishes, I did them angrily.
When I folded laundry, I smashed clothes into drawers, frustrated.
When I made the bed…what’s that?
And my house didn’t smell sweet.
It smelled like old diapers.
“Father, give me a servant’s heart,” I prayed.
It’s a long, humbling journey. It’s still going on every day. And I won’t ever “arrive” or graduate or get a sticker on my chore chart.
I just get more and more of Him as less and less of me if I’m willing. Precious. Sweet. Perfect.
So this is my journey out of Little Mommy Syndrome and into working for the Big Boss, doing the Big Work, striving to intentionally create a Christ-centered home.