I came across this post again yesterday, and it really spoke to my heart. It's a little strange and wonderful when your own writing can inspire you. This is one of the reasons why I always encourage people to keep journals. Anyway, I hope that you all can find some encouragement for your own hearts.
Have a blessed weekend, and I wish a very happy Mother's Day to all my mother-type readers!
"The Milkmaid" by Johannes Vermeer
I have always loved this painting. The radiance of the simplicity in both composition and subject speaks powerfully to me of the greatness inherent in little acts. Martin Luther once said,
"What you do in your house is worth as much as if you did it up in heaven for our Lord God. We should accustom ourselves to think of our position and work as sacred and well-pleasing to God, not on account of the position and work, but on account of the word and faith from which the obedience and the work flow."
That is precisely what this painting speaks to me.
Sometimes, I need to look at this painting again, to remind myself that the work I do in my home and for my family is of great worth, if not in the eyes of the world, then in the eyes of God, and in the lives of those that I love. And, it is of worth to me. As this painting is of great worth to me, so to is the way I live out it's message. Sometimes, amidst the dishes and the laundry and the diapers and vaccuuming and cooking and baking and scrubbing, I forget. I forget the vision that I hold so dear: of a loving family, a warm and happy home, a space for God to dwell richly in me and mine.
I think that we can make the mistake of looking at housewives and stay-at-home mothers and come to one of two conclusions: "Oh, she just loves it; she was made for this," or, "Poor woman, she's trapped!"
I think that all of us who have chosen a life (or a stage of life) in the home have felt both of these things. Sometimes, when we've had a glorious day cuddling our baby or we pull a perfect-looking piping hot pie from the oven, we say to ourselves, "This is paradise. I was made for this kind of work, these kinds of rewards. I can think of nothing else I would rather do." And every once in awhile, we look with envy at our working friends with their "success," their careers, their neatly styled hair and their sweet freedom, and we say to ourselves, "Why did I ever do this? I can be so much more. I can do so much more. Why am I trapped here in this house with these babies and all this thankless menial labor?"
However, it is unfair to think that because there is some merit to these two stereotypes that they are all there is to a housewife. I think the reason most of us who stay at home do so is not, ultimately, because we enjoy housework or raising our children up by hand nor is it because we are trapped by oppressive, over-bearing macho husbands. It is because we have a vision. We have a vision of the kind of family, the kind of home, the kind of peace, the kind of life that we want for ourselves and for our loved ones.
But it's not primarily about the home-cooked meals, the clean bathrooms, or the homeschooling, either. We have a vision of the blessings that God pours out on us somewhere between the family gathered at the breakfast table, the newly ironed sheets, the evening stroll to the park, and the heartfelt goodnight kiss. Yes, these things are blessings in the themselves, but the true blessings can be found when God meets us in these humble daily moments. The peace of a well-ordered home speaks to its inhabitants and guests of our Lord, "For God is not a God of disorder, but of peace" (1 Corinthians 14:33a). The love of a family who grows and prays and eats and spends much time together speaks to us of the strength of love that we can find a committed life lived for God. The sacrifices of a mother for her children, a wife for her husband, teaches us the true joy found in being "a servant of all" (Mark 10:44).
I stay home not because I love ironing clothes or serving home-cooked meals (though I actually do love both) nor do I stay at home because I have no other choice. I stay at home because when I look at Vermeer's "Milkmaid," when I watch The Waltons, when I read about the Weasley family at the Burrow or Proverbs 31, I am given a glimpse of something so beautiful that I will give up much in order to gain that vision. I know that, perhaps, I could be or do "more," and by more I mean, something else. But, I also know that whatever else I put on my plate will take away from the vision I have and place my energy, my time, my efforts, my talents, and my love elsewhere. I stay at home not because I want to be less than what I could be but because I want more of the life that I call "good." And when I do my work at home as unto the Lord, I find that home can be the field Jesus speaks of in Matthew 13:44
"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field."
I have found that treasure in my home. Wherever you find it, I hope you sell all you have and go to claim it with joy.