We laughed so hard on the phone together that I snorted repeatedly, that deep inhale and laugh at the same time kinda thing. She had recounted the 45 minutes of scrubbing the bathroom only to have a kid drop a wet, dirty towel on the floor. I thought of my freshly mopped kitchen floor swarmed by after-school snackers who swiftly trail cracker crumbs and half-squeezed apple sauce pouches all over everywhere. Our banter moved from lack of demonstrated appreciation, the rinse & repeat nature of being a mom at home with a passel of children, to what the heck the summer would hold and when we’d take a road trip to reunite our clans.
After more laughing and more loud YES ME TOOs, our conversation slide into the deeper and quieter places of our questions. Our yearnings for tranquility now and more consistent delight at the Nazareth hiddenness of it all. I hung up the phone with a soft smile and a fierce appreciation for this friend, a sister on the journey, one who fortified me for more long days and brief sleeps. A rare find, a true kindred spirit.
+ + +
I nursed (yes, guys, weaning didn’t work!!) our toddler to sleep and laid him on the bed alongside me. My usually early prayer hour hadn’t happened due to a late-night sewing date (yes, it’s a thing), so this early afternoon pocket of time was it. I stretched out on my stomach, propped my chin up to peer over my Bible, and flexed each foot. The nerve buzzing had increased as the summer temperatures did likewise. I decided to ignore it and focus on Luke 4:16-30. Flip flip flip, ah:
Jesus explaining that He was the fulfillment of the prophesies. Jesus castigating His own neighbors and family friends. Jesus walking through their midst as they tried to kill Him.
And as I silenced my busy mind again and again, a sort of unearthing took place. He came to do the will of the Father, not to delight His community. He told them Who He was in order to inform them, not win them over. Maybe He had a holy detachment from the outcome of this day in the synagogue.
And my annoying household chores? My driving all over God’s creation for ball practices and games and drama club and violin lessons? I’m doing it to serve God through my kids. But if I’m waiting for them to appreciate my efforts, affirm my contributions, and confer praise and glory over me . . . kingdom will come first, probably!! Where’s my holy detachment?
Where I want healing, and perhaps you do too, is to not do things for a response, a reaction, a dopamine hit to my brain. I’m prone to chase the “just” desserts of my efforts. Shouldn’t they thank me? Shouldn’t someone notice all that I’m doing? That’s only fair, right? What if I redirect my efforts to only be for God? His love, praise, affection, intimacy with me are unchanging and unmoving. I can count on His affirmation. I’m doing what I need to for Him, the limitless laundry, the yards of yard work, the disgusting dishes, the mountains of meal prep. And while my family benefits, the true Person it’s all aimed for and at is . . . God.
I can’t come up with your list of things you’re doing for God, but I’d encourage you to think beyond the prayer checklist. Don’t want to call the dentist to schedule a cleaning for your teeth that’s overdue? Do it because God loves you and wants your teeth to be in good health. Don’t love taking the car for an oil change so you keep putting it off? Do it for God because it’s a pain in the rear and you can give Him the little inconvenience. Don’t care about refilling the ice trays? What a little gift to give Him, that of a meh chore. It’s Saint Therese of Lisieux all day long: small things with great love.
If the people in your life are chronically inappreciative and you’re waiting for their acknowledgment, turn your wounds over to the Infinite Healer. Reorder your life so that He’s the reason you’re doing things, with the lovely side effect of helping those you love, those who can never fill you up in the way the Source of Love can and will. I cleaned my kitchen for Him tonight. And it was the most beautiful hidden gift I could give Him. My heart, aching for the Healer’s tenderness, all for Him.
It sounds so silly, to sweep my floors and my cobwebbed inner room at the same time. But it gave me a hint of healing, so I want that for you, too. Also, if you don’t have a friend you can horse laugh with on the phone, you gotta be that friend for someone else!
In this together and praying for you,
love,
Nell
ps. two people have asked if Anthony and I would record a mini-podcast season again—2020 vibes. The Hermit + His Wife was aptly named by a dear friend. Vote? If more than 2 people are really wanting it, I will see if I can get Anthony to resurrect it. Also we have 666 subscribers to the yt channel so maybe you can help me fix that!!
for love of Him, not them
I’ll vote for the podcast to be resumed!
Oof this was the kick in the pants I needed! Fitting going into Mother’s Day & all the expectations of *everyone! celebrating! me!* that come with it - eek!