Sometimes it seems like I've lived several different lives. I've been a chiropractic assistant, a secretary, a missionary, a pastor's wife, a pastor, a teacher, a doula....
Recently, at a Bible study people were discussing what they would do if money were no object. People shared very wonderful, very noble, very grand visions. If you ever have a small fortune of which you need to dispose, I know some people with wonderfully compassionate and life-giving aspirations. Other people shared, quite honestly, actually, that they would like to travel, see the world, and improve their own living conditions. As I sat in the back and pondered that question for myself, I had to think a lot harder than one should. As I scrambled to come up with something as mind-blowing as what I was hearing, I realized that if I had a ton of money, I would like to be doing exactly what I am doing now, except a little more. Let me explain: If I had more money I'd be giving bigger contributions to organizations like Compassion and VOM. I'd take more trips to Mongolia and help our church there with resources to accomplish all their dreams. But, my daily life, I really wouldn't want to change. Living a quiet life, surrounded by my family with wonderful, supportive friends.
This should be your ambition:to live a quiet life, minding your own businessand working with your hands,just as we commanded you before.I Thess. 4:11
My days are a patchwork of little things that perhaps don't amount to much on their own, but together are satisfying and beautiful and interesting and surround one with warmth on a chilly evening.
In the mornings I sometimes take the dog for a stroll through our neighborhood where we smile and greet the elderly Chinese couples who are out for their morning exercise and Tai Chi. But, sometimes I ignore the morning and cuddle up next to Gana until little children begin to join us.
In the morning we do our chores and I hang the clothes on the line, patting myself on the back that we are so "green" but really it's just that the gas lines to hook up the drying haven't been run in our garage yet. But, as it turns out, I love hanging laundry. Watching the diapers hang on the line and blow in the breeze causes something in my soul to stir, as if my inner pioneer woman is happy.
I love snuggling up with my babies and reading to them. Sometimes we read silly picture books. Sometimes we read great and lofty literature, well beyond their reading levels. I love it when my children cry, "One more chapter, puleeeeeeeze."
I love the non-scheduled, but always welcomed breaks throughout the day when I sit down to nurse the baby. That's usually when I update my Facebook page or blog. In fact, as we speak the baby is happily nursing and putting her feet in my face at the same time.
I love our days at home, when I see relationships be nurtured and love flourish between my children. The other day Captain was sick and spent the day in my bed. Meg sat next to him for hours, stroking his head and reading him stories.
I love it when we have our friends or friends-to-be over. I love sitting up late into the night swapping stories and laughing and sometimes crying. We are rich in friendship.
I love when Gana is outside building something--like the tree house--and teaching the kids how to use a level, a square or a hammer. I love it when they all--Gana included--come inside covered in paint and smiling.
Every day here is not perfect. We have our moments of drama, you can be sure. But, altogether our life is what I want it to be. Even if we struck it rich tomorrow, I wouldn't want our life to change too much.
I Timothy 6:6But godliness with contentment is great gain.
Of all my lives already lived, I feel, at the moment at least, that what I am doing today is as important as anything I've ever done. In fact, perhaps it's more important. Perhaps what a woman does hidden away by her clothesline or cuddled up on her sofa with a raggedy copy of Prince Caspian is more important than what happens on Wall Street, Main Street, the White House or the School House. What am I doing after all, with my patchwork days? I'm making a living quilt for my family. I'm giving my kids something--that indefinable thing called Center or Faith or Foundation that they will take with them someday when they leave our little home. And I'm giving my husband something called Security or Warmth or Motivation that he takes with him each day when he leaves our little home and calls him home every evening.
"How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No. A woman's function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness." --G.K. Chesterton
