Today's Topic:
Arise and Shine: Being an Exceptional Mother in the Midst of the Ordinary
Today's Hostess:
Lisa at A Second Generation of Homeschooling
Lisa has this to share about homeschool mothers, but any mother I know, homeschooling or not, can relate:
"Homeschool mothers can most assuredly relate to the feelings that come from drudgery. The days are long and tedious. The success that comes of the toil sometimes goes unseen for months, maybe even years. Our lives seem downright plain and ordinary. Our work goes unnoticed. Our existence remains unobserved. Life can become commonplace. Where do we go from here? How can we keep going from day to day?"
She asks us the following questions:
1. What daily tasks seem mundane or monotonous to you?
2. How can we change our outlook when completing these tasks?
3. What impact do these tasks have on our husband and children? How does it make a difference in their lives?
4. Is it okay to focus on earthly recognition when completing these tasks for our loved ones, or is receiving an eternal reward sufficient? Which does Jesus think is more important? Shouldn’t that be our focus, as well?
Today I'm keeping it simple. There are a lot of "mundane tasks" that need to be done around here, and my blogging time needs to be short.
I want to share briefly about recognition and motives in our daily lives because God has done a work in me this year in this area.
I have the privilege of getting to stay at home with my kids. I have since I was pregnant with the first. I always knew I wanted to stay at home once I had children. I also pictured myself very involved and active in church, ministry and volunteer work.
And that's what I set out to do. I volunteered for local ministries, completed additional certification classes, became involved in Bible studies, moms groups and hosting ministries at our home. I started an at-home business with my sister.
I kept busy.
And then in January, something changed. The best way I can describe it was I had a constant lack of peace. I always felt overwhelemed, underaccomplished and scattered. I didn't feel I was being an attentive wife, an involved mom or a productive volunteer. My household duties felt like burdens and a day where I didn't load my kids into the car for one reason or another was hard to come by.
The light bulb moment was when I got sick and was thankful that I had an "excuse" to stay at home and enjoy my family. At that moment, I knew my priorities had been turned upside down.
As I began to make changes and learned to refuse different opportunities, I was surprised by the backlash. God really used that time to prune out the things that didn't bear fruit, including church activities and friendships. I was criticized, belittled and accused because I made a choice to spend the majority of my time in my home, taking care of my family, instead of in service to others. I was even told I was not in God's will because the most important thing to Him was that I go outside of my home to bring people to the Lord and that I was a example of selfishness to my children.
It's been a year of pruning and loss. But I feel lighter, because I'm not carrying around more than God designed for me. The mundane chores and household responsibilities are not overwhelming anymore. There is satisfaction in having the time to do them well. Overall I feel closer to God, more at peace and balanced as a family.
I received this story in an email today and thought you might like to read it. I wish I knew who to give the credit to, but it was one of those anonymous forwards. True story or not, it really speaks to the heart of a mother.
"Invisible Mother"
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she's goooooooone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.
I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."
Hebrews 11:1
Blessings,
1. What daily tasks seem mundane or monotonous to you?
2. How can we change our outlook when completing these tasks?
3. What impact do these tasks have on our husband and children? How does it make a difference in their lives?
4. Is it okay to focus on earthly recognition when completing these tasks for our loved ones, or is receiving an eternal reward sufficient? Which does Jesus think is more important? Shouldn’t that be our focus, as well?
Today I'm keeping it simple. There are a lot of "mundane tasks" that need to be done around here, and my blogging time needs to be short.
I want to share briefly about recognition and motives in our daily lives because God has done a work in me this year in this area.
I have the privilege of getting to stay at home with my kids. I have since I was pregnant with the first. I always knew I wanted to stay at home once I had children. I also pictured myself very involved and active in church, ministry and volunteer work.
And that's what I set out to do. I volunteered for local ministries, completed additional certification classes, became involved in Bible studies, moms groups and hosting ministries at our home. I started an at-home business with my sister.
I kept busy.
And then in January, something changed. The best way I can describe it was I had a constant lack of peace. I always felt overwhelemed, underaccomplished and scattered. I didn't feel I was being an attentive wife, an involved mom or a productive volunteer. My household duties felt like burdens and a day where I didn't load my kids into the car for one reason or another was hard to come by.
The light bulb moment was when I got sick and was thankful that I had an "excuse" to stay at home and enjoy my family. At that moment, I knew my priorities had been turned upside down.
As I began to make changes and learned to refuse different opportunities, I was surprised by the backlash. God really used that time to prune out the things that didn't bear fruit, including church activities and friendships. I was criticized, belittled and accused because I made a choice to spend the majority of my time in my home, taking care of my family, instead of in service to others. I was even told I was not in God's will because the most important thing to Him was that I go outside of my home to bring people to the Lord and that I was a example of selfishness to my children.
It's been a year of pruning and loss. But I feel lighter, because I'm not carrying around more than God designed for me. The mundane chores and household responsibilities are not overwhelming anymore. There is satisfaction in having the time to do them well. Overall I feel closer to God, more at peace and balanced as a family.
I received this story in an email today and thought you might like to read it. I wish I knew who to give the credit to, but it was one of those anonymous forwards. True story or not, it really speaks to the heart of a mother.
"Invisible Mother"
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she's goooooooone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.
I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life.
It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.
And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."
Hebrews 11:1
Blessings,
When you enter our home, the view is the Living Room. We designed this room, from the layout to the furniture, to be an open, comfortable area where we could entertain and host events or meetings for ministries, especially Bible studies. The blue couch belonged to my great-grandparents and reflects a special part of my family line.
In the dining room, we replaced our long table with a square one. It seemed to fit the room and foster conversations between all the guests better. This is also where I house all of my tea things. There is nothing like inviting a friend over for a playdate, getting out the fancy tea sets and serving her tea while the kids run around and play.
My bedroom reflects a love of reading and studying. We built a window seat, so I could read and still keep an eye on the kids while they play outside. We also put in a low table for writing and study supplies. My favorite spot is the oversized chaise lounge for cozy reading times.
The kitchen was made for fellowship. I made sure to have extra roomy aisles so as not to get grumpy when everyone is milling around while I am cooking. With chairs along the breakfast bar and connected to the Family Room, it's naturally a place people gravitate to.
