Being at Home: Part II

I bought an old, wooden rocker from a local thrift store a couple years back. The seat sits low, with carefully crafted arms and edges that contour and arc. There is a string of flowers painted on the headboard–just asymmetrical enough to remind you that it is handmade. This masterpiece put me back $10. It lives on our stair landing across from our children’s bedroom door, which, when left open, reveals the $200 plush, gliding rocker I ordered online from Target.

I use them both.

My rockers, in a way, seem to catch the dichotomy of my life. I have my home (and my household within it) and then there is my editing business. The world tells me that serving my home is looking backwards to the old, and serving outside the home is looking toward a progressive future. One is hard and traditional, the other plush and modern.

That’s what the world tells me.

C.S. Lewis said, “The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only – and that is to support the ultimate career.”

As I write this, my husband is putting our two-year-old to bed, my newborn is strapped to my chest in a carrier, and my part-time in-home babysitter is texting me for confirmation of her hours in August.

Which rocker am I?

“…to be busy at home” (oikourgous, Greek, literally “home-workers”). The home was once described as “… a place apart, a walled garden, in which certain virtues too easily crushed by modern life could be preserved,” and the mother in this home was described as “The Angel in the House.”[1]

I like the idea of being the Angel of my house. No. I love the idea of being the Angel of my house- and the beloved toes inside it. I would forfeit all other endeavors if that were my Angelic cross to bear.

Is it my cross to bear?

“…For the joy set before Him, He endured the cross.”[2]

Maybe crosses are only as heavy as our discontentment with them? Maybe our crosses were meant to be our joy? Maybe in God’s wisdom and the world’s foolishness, our crosses become unrecognizable against the joys that they birth?

I see my home as greater than my editing business-because God tells me that my home is greater than my editing business. And in trusting that He is all-knowing and perfect and good to me, I take joy in the greater thing. I keep every other endeavor in check to this truth. It is not my plight, it is my gift. I give into it. I jump off the cliff.

I am overcome by its freedom. I am heavy with its weight.

Few women realize what great service they are doing for mankind and for the kingdom of Christ when they provide a shelter for the family and good mothering-the foundation on which all else is built. A mother builds something far more magnificent than any cathedral-the dwelling place for an immortal soul (both her child’s fleshly tabernacle and his earthly abode). No professional pursuit so uniquely combines the most menial tasks with the most meaningful opportunities. [3]

 

1,3 The High Calling of Wife and Mother in Biblical Perspective. Copyright 1997 Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood.

2 Hebrews 12:2

 

 

 

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