Sweeping the Cobwebs Away

I was sweeping my mother-in-law's kitchen floor when it hit me.

"I am finding joy in this."

My heart has been searching for joy--or at least meaning--in housework for eight years. Why now?

I've read so many books on the How-To's of house keeping, and even a couple of really amazing ones on the Why. I've tried and tried and tried to embrace this. So, why all of the sudden does it seem to make sense? Why am I enjoying it?

I think it's because I'm grateful.

My mother-in-law and her husband are allowing our family to completely take over their dwelling for eight months. Free of charge. And I find joy in baking for them and doing things around the house, because it's the best way I know to say, "Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!"

It's the same situation at my mom's house. I shouldn't enjoy spending time cleaning and cooking there. Our weekends are nearly our only times to be with B.daddy. But still, I am humbled with gratitude. Every other weekend we get their house completely to ourselves. And every other weekend they give up their privacy to give us a place to be a family. So, straightening up their house and baking cookies for their work week? Not only is it not a big deal, but it actually brings me joy to do it.

Now, if you were me reading this, about two paragraphs ago you would have started asking, "Are you not grateful in your daily life? Are you not grateful to your husband and children for existing? Let alone the fact that they are awesome, and your husband is a good man and treats you with love and respect." Well, yes, that is exactly what it was that hit me.

Why have I not found joy in preparing our previous home for my husband's return from work everyday? Why has it always been riddled with guilt and resentment? He has never--NEVER--told me how to keep the house and how things should look when he gets home everyday. He has always showered me with grace and empathy. So, why? Why has it always been such a hardship for me?

Well, I have two theories.

One is, it's my own entitlement that tells me he should be helping me with all of this. And then there are my assumptions and insecurities that tell me he expects me to do it all perfectly...all by myself. (And have make up on and my hair did at the end of the day.)

The second theoretical source is our culture. I think we all know that popular, American culture has been trying, for decades, to revamp female roles in society as well as the home. I'm not against it. I'm just saying, many of these messages that I've been hearing all of my life are making it dang hard to serve my husband and children the way the Spirit within me longs to serve--namely, joyfully.

I'm sure that in the end, they both meld together perfectly to antagonize my desire to be a good wife and mother. I'm sure they work perfectly together to deflect my attention from how amazingly God loves me, that He would give me the privilege to be these things. And I'm sure, it could be any number of things causing me to not see what is right in front of me and all around me: a Father who loves me and showers me with gifts appropriate for my upbringing and edification. In the end, isn't that the most important thing? That God really does love me, and I really can count on that every single day? Even on days that suck? Or, better yet, on really good days when I don't "do" anything outside of hanging out with my kids and folding a load of laundry?