Ladies, man your stations!
My morning routine has been much less eventful the last couple of years. After getting out of bed and getting dressed for the day, I sneak quietly down stairs to the kitchen where I find my husband, Slavic, preparing a latte for me just the way I like it. On days that he leaves earlier (or I slept in a little), I make myself some coffee and sit down at our huge wooden table that stands in our sun-room. This is my chance to have some quiet time. A time when I allow my brain to wake up as I sip on my cup of coffee, soaking in the panoramic view of God’s creation through the large windows that line the three walls of our sun-room. Before I finish my cup of coffee, I pray. Sometimes I close my eyes, but many times, I continue observing the beautiful nature that testifies of His goodness as I speak to Him about the tasks I will need to get done that day to take care of my home and impart strength and dignity into the five children He has entrusted me with.
My mornings didn’t always look like this. Most of you know that I have five children, whom I have been homeschooling since my oldest entered kindergarten. The biggest gap I have between my children is four years between my first and second child. The smallest gap is one year and two months. The other two are two years and three years. For a while (actually what seemed like a whole lifetime in the moment) I couldn’t get any quiet time. My children needed me from the moment I opened my eyes and all the way through several feedings during the night. Never mind enjoying a cup of coffee, taking a shower or a quick trip to the restroom was strategically planned during nap-times. On several occasions I had to strap my newborn into a car seat and take him/her into the bathroom with me just to get a shower. I was even offered a game of checkers, slipped by tiny fingers through the gap below the bathroom door, just in case I was feeling lonely or bored in there.
The years in which my children had only a year and two months difference were especially interesting. I did have apply extra mental effort to remember what day of the week it was because they were all the same, except Sundays. Thank you Jesus for Sundays! That was how I remembered what day of the week it was: by counting how many days since Sunday or until Sunday. Okay, I’m kidding. I did have a calendar, I just couldn’t remember where I put it.
Was it a bit difficult to get through those years? I would be lying if I was to tell you I went through those years with a smile gracing my face, beaming with excitement as I went from feeding through the night to changing another poopy diaper five minutes after the previous poopy diaper. Of course, it drained me. Of course, I was sleep deprived and tired. I had to give of myself above and beyond what I thought was humanly possible. I had to push beyond every limit of my patience and capacity to consider others above myself.
Why? Because my children needed me. That was enough to keep me going. Because no one in this world can replace me for my children. Why? Because I prayed God would give me children, I carried them beneath my heart for nine months, and endured the pain and struggle of delivering them. Why? Because children are a reward, a blessing from the Lord. Each day I spent carrying them in the womb, holding them close as I nursed them, cleaning up their messes, teaching them to say “mama” or “papa, letting them grip my fingers with their tiny fists, and tucking them in to bed I prayed and spoke God’s purpose over them.
Every day I taught them how to share their toys and take turns, how to clean up their own messes and contribute in taking care of the home, and to offer the last helping of the family meal to someone else before they helped themselves to it, I instilled daily in tiny bites a meaning to their life that was greater than themselves.
Every day that we memorized Bible verses, persisted in learning to read, and struggled through the math concepts, I showed them they can achieve anything if they worked hard enough and that we don’t fail, we learn from our failures and move forward.
It took daily sacrificing of what I wanted to do with my life or pursuing my interests or even growing in my giftings. It required laying down everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, and raising them in the fear and knowledge of their Creator and leading them to discovering their place in His plan. Day after day, speaking and modeling identity into their precious little hearts and minds.
Does that sound repetitive, mundane, and lacking glamorous recognition? Yes! But definitely accomplishes my NUMBER ONE CALLING as a woman who has been given the honor and privilege to birth life: to impart God’s purpose into these precious souls.
As I sat at in my sun-room a few days ago, sipping my coffee, speaking to God about the task at hand that day, I remembered an article I came across earlier that week. It was an article on christianpost.com.
The title read, “Suicide rate for young teens nearly triples.”
Here are a few excerpts:
The suicide rate among children aged 10 through 14 has nearly tripled from 2007 to 2017, while the suicide rate among older teenagers has increased by 76 percent between 2007 and 2017, new federal data show.
According to a new report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics, the suicide rate among 10 through 24-year-olds has increased 56 percent over the last decade as violent deaths (suicide and homicide) continue to be leading causes of death for that age bracket.
“Not only is suicide trending upward, but the pace of increase is actually accelerating,” said the report’s co-author, Sally Curtin, in an interview with NPR.
What a tragedy! With all the progress civilization has made, all the breakthroughs in medicine and technology, and advances in equality in education and employment, the next generation struggles to find the meaning of their existence. Have they not been held close and spoken into about their identity? Have they not watched their mother clean up a mess and then let them try? Have they not grabbed onto their parents fingers with their tiny fists, knowing they are safe clinging to someone bigger than themselves? Have they not been taught to think of others above their own happiness and comfort?
Have we been so busy pursuing our own calling that we forgot to model character through the mundane, the repetitive, and the lackluster daily life of reality for our children?
The irony of reading about a controversy between Christian leaders on the same newsfeed really made all this sink in deep. The controversy and a hailstorm of opinions on both sides was sparked by a remark made by John MacArthur, a pastor in California, in response to a question asking him for his opinion on a female evangelist, Beth Moore. His remark was “go home,” which was followed up with a longer explanation on the matter.
I don’t care to discuss who is right and who is wrong in this situation. To begin with, I am certain we have bigger concerns to invest our time solving. Whether women should or shouldn’t preach doesn’t concern me at all. What concerns me is the number of prominent church leaders and preachers who came to Beth’s rescue, denouncing the remark “go home” as a horrendous insult against all of female humanity. It was as bad as telling her to cease her existence altogether since she can’t be a preacher.
As I have mentioned in this blog already, the obvious fact that keeping the home and raising children may seem less glamorous than speaking to crowds from the stage, it is DEFINITELY NOT a lower position, much less an insult of gross proportions as it has been made out to be. It requires dying to your SELF daily, complete with a quickly pinned up bun, just enough makeup to look like you are awake, and major lapses in memory on a few occasions throughout the day.
Ladies, if you are one of those who hasn’t had a chance to leave home to begin with, and devote yourselves to staying busy at home, loving your husband and children, you are doing exactly what the Word of God tells you to do. Nurturing your family is the first and most important ministry we are called to. That is not to say I’m against women preaching. I’m simply saying, our husbands and children need us. That is where we can do the most damage to the enemy. Even if we spend our whole life creating a safe place for our children and a place of rest for our husbands, we have nailed it! We have nailed that lying devil that has been after our children, confusing their understanding of their identity and purpose for living. That is an honorable position, not an insult.
I can go on to tell you about the woman who risked her life for her baby, who then grew up to deliver the entire nation out of bondage and slavery, or the lady who stuck around at home and saved Israel from a cruel enemy by driving a tent peg through his head (do what you can with what you have), or that one who birthed and raised the Savior, but this post is already too long and you can read the stories for yourselves in your Bibles.
I hope you enjoyed reading this post as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love reading your comments, so please do leave your thoughts and feedback. Also, if you have been encouraged by my posts, please share with others.
