It’s so easy to get lost in the humdrum of all that has to be done by a mother. Every day without fail there are dishes to be washed, clothes to be folded or hung, and meals to be made. Add to that, attempts at exercise, running errands, cleaning up unplanned spontaneous messes, and answering the call of children to play.

“Mama is busy. Go play with each other.” I say that a lot now that I have more than one.

“Mama isn’t lucky like you. She has lots and lots of work and chores to do and she doesn’t get to play. Now run along and enjoy yourselves. Mama has work to do.”

Have you ever gotten completely burnt out by doing chores day, after day, after day, after day. The same ones. In the same house. With no pay… no vacation… no incentives… and no end in sight!

Just work, work, work! The dishes keep coming. The laundry keeps coming. And the most hopeless part is that they always will.

And then you start to ask yourself, “What in the world am I doing? What has my life become? Where do I belong? Where has my joy gone? How in the world do I get it back?”

The temptation for me is then to begin dreaming of the day I’ll have money… lots more money. I’ll have a big beautiful house with so much more space than where I am now, that doing chores will be easier and more enjoyable. There will be room to stay organized and there will be room to get away from messes when I need to just breathe. I’ll have a laundry room where all the laundry will stay until I can get to it. I’ll have a huge kitchen with a great big granite top island, and in it’s spaciousness, dirty dishes will be almost unnoticeable in the corner over by sink.

Right now if there are dirty dishes they take up all my counter space (which isn’t much) and you can’t even make a sandwich until they’re dealt with. If there is one load of laundry unfolded on the floor in my living room, there is no space to walk. It’s an eyesore and creates a traffic jam. And the toys… oh the sea of toys that creeps right back out into every square inch of my home, the very moment they’ve been put away.

Yes, the temptation is to believe I’m enduring all of this just until I get my dream home.

But then reality sets in and I realize that day may never come.

And besides the fact that such a day may never come, I start to feel so shallow finding my joy in the hope for material things. “That’s not the point to life,” I remind myself. But lost… and confused I ask myself again… “Then what is?”

And then I answer my question and say, “Life is not about material things, it’s about serving God and serving others. I start to think about the women I know taking trips to Mexico, working in soup kitchens, teaching Bible Studies, and I begin to feel my life… which lacks all those good deeds… has really become a wash.

“Doing laundry and dishes, picking up toys and playing board games instead of going to Haiti and helping orphans and widows? How did I get this way? What am I doing here? How did I get so lost? How did my life get so off track and become so worthless?”

Back to square one.

I’ve been tossing and turning like this for days.

And then… today…

Everything changed.

After one short moment… one pause in all the monotony of life…

My eight year old came to me sobbing with a list of questions and doubts that have been weighing on his heart, about God.

We spent a bit of time talking about his doubts and searching for the answers to his questions, and agreed to talk about it more in the evening, and even more tomorrow.

And in the silence that followed our conversation, I was reminded what I’m doing here.

I am a missionary in my home, mothering not just children, but souls.

I spend a lot of time taking care of kids, messes, meals, clothes, toys, rules, games, books, but I had forgotten… neglected… to focus on their souls.

Before I had children I planned and plotted about how I would be a great mom. The things I would teach them. The ways I would disciple them. And then they came and teaching them about God was so simple because they just believed and agreed with whatever I said. I think it became so easy, and felt so taken care of that I sort of set their souls aside agreeing with myself to resume discipleship when they became teens and all the difficult questions would come.

Those questions came today. And I’m so glad they did. And I’m so glad God used my son to remind me what I’m supposed to be doing with my time, where my greatest work lies, where so much of my joy comes from, and what a privilege it is to be home with my children.

Not in an office, not on Wall Street, not on a stage, not in Haiti,… but right here.

In between the laundry, before and after doing dishes, during weeks when blogging must be put off until the next, because I am far too busy sitting, listening, talking, asking, digging, enjoying, engaging my children, and Mothering their Souls.

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