Lately, I've been dissatisfied, petulant, frustrated, angry, ill-equipped and bored. It's my job! I find it is getting to me. I'm 100% behind the idea of being the primary care-giver to your children during the first five years of life. I'm just not always sure that I'm capable of being the primary care-giver for MY children during the first five years of their lives (indeed, we wonder if one of them will make it through the first five years of life!).
In a lot of ways, I love being home with my kids. I get up in the morning when the first little boy wakes up (we've been having late nights recently, so that is usually 8 a.m. these days). I love being able to decide, on the spur of the moment, that we will go and walk in the park. I love watching them play (today has been full of tickle fests, since MS discovered that he can rub his chin into a particular spot just below ES's collar bone and it elicits uncontrollable laughter). I love reading to the little boys. I love singing songs to them at night before bed (the big request for the past week has been "Little Bunny Foo-Foo," but someday I want to do a post about some of the songs we sing). I love the care-free nature of our days.
But, there are quite a few things I have trouble with. Many days, I feel like I have accomplished next to nothing with my day. I look at my house and wonder if I have made even the tiniest dent in what should be going on (especially in the areas of cleaning and organizing). Lots of times, I feel like I am three steps behind these boys, finding their new messes just as they finish making them. How tired I get of waking up to the task of preparing food, cleaning up from preparing food, cleaning up from the messes made while I was preparing food and cleaning up, etc. ad nauseum. Endless care-taking. Endless cleaning (not my favorite task in the world, I'll admit). Endless intervention. Endless requests. Endless regret when I haven't been as diligent with watching what they are up to as I should have been.
I think to myself, "I'm not the right person for this job!" Of course, I've had those thoughts before in a few other jobs. I remember sitting in the church office where I was a secretary, thinking, "What in the world am I doing here? I want to be teaching, but instead I sit here fielding everyone's questions about what should be included in Sunday's bulletin."
I remember typing thousands of addresses into a data bank for Solo Cup Company for some promotion they had in exchange for sending in box-tops. It was work. It was an income. But, I found it hard to find meaning and significance.
Then, there were the times when I was working as an individual assistant. I have a full teaching degree, plus a master's degree. I took the job for very specific reasons and those reasons were well worth the step down on the totem pole (I was able to have the same schedule as my son, without taking home all the grading, lesson plans, administrative details of a teacher; I had insurance for the pregnancy we were contemplating; I was able to work with students without being entirely responsible for discipline; etc.). But, it doesn't take much to bring me back to moments sitting in a basement with an autistic student. I would listen to his wail, watch his physical stims, look at the wall and wonder why in the world I was there.
I know my role as mother is very meaningful and significant. I understand the magnitude of the gift I've been given. But, blimey, there are days when I'm just not up for it. There are days when I think God must have made an error in assigning me this task. It is too boring, too mundane, too tiresome, too frustrating. There are days when I long for something where the rewards are immediately visible. I think, if only I had a different job, I would feel like I am really accomplishing something.
I have to remind myself that I have felt this way in other jobs, because I know that whatever else is out there, isn't really the answer to my restlessness in motherhood at the moment. I have to call to mind encouragements from the past to get me through today.
One of those encouragements I have been trying to dredge up, without quite the success I had hoped, was a story I remember someone sharing in a Salvation Army Home League meeting (or perhaps my memories are just fuzzy, because I don't really ever remember belonging to Home League). I think the person was reading from a Salvation Army lesson book prepared specifically for Home League meetings (for non-Army readers: Home League is a women's group).
I remember the story clearly, but cannot find any documentation on it anywhere. Here is what I recall: I believe the story is about Mrs. Lt. Col. Lyell Rader. I believe it told the story of her early life and the longings she had to become a missionary. This woman longed to be used of God on the mission field, yet the Lord led her down the path of motherhood here in the States. The denouement to the story was the clincher for cementing it in my memory. If you look at the line of her off-spring, you realize that this woman nurtured many missionaries (one of her sons even went on to become a General of The Salvation Army). I wish I could find the exact story. Perhaps my mother will remember this and call to say she actually has the print version of this.
Anyway, I have been reminding myself of this story. Not because I think I'm raising missionaries (that would be a surprise to me). I'm just hoping that my efforts here (even when I am in the dumps feeling ill-equipped and unprepared for my calling) will see fruit that I wouldn't have dreamed.
While looking for documentation for the "Mother Rader Story," I did stumble upon something by Lt. Col. Damon Rader (oh, more blog fodder - and stories very dear to my heart). It was only a brief letter written in response to gifts for a radio station for Chikankata in Zambia. But at the end of his letter, he shared a passage from 2 Thess. 1:11 - The Message:
"Pray that our God will make us fit for what he's called us to be, pray that he'll fill our good ideas and acts of faith with his own energy, so that it all amounts to something."
How I needed those words! How I needed his encouragement! May God truly make me fit for this challenging job of raising challenging boys (no - I'm not telling what MS did yesterday just yet!). May He fill me with His own energy for this task. May He remind me to relish this task while I have it. May He one day say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."
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