The past few months, life has been pretty overwhelming. With three little kids, housekeeping, bills, etc., I just can’t keep up. I find myself feeling guilty every night when my husband gets home from work simply because I haven’t accomplished my do-list. He’s usually very understanding, but I still feel guilty.
Before I became a housewife, I thought it would be simple. I’d been teaching elementary school in a rough district with rough students. Every class period was an exercise in self-control. I’d had to commute two hours each day. Plus I still needed to do the normal adult tasks of daily life. So little time.
When I left my job to stay at home with our baby (with another on the way), I thought I was cutting out a lot -- a whole job! My stress should go down, right? My new job description: take care of the kids. No boss to worry about, no commuting, plus I could wear comfy clothes (and shoes!) every day. But now, two years in, I have an enlightened perspective. I see what’s involved in “taking care of the kids”: diapering, feeding, dressing, bathing, playing with, loving… there’s not even time for housework, let alone hobbies.
I feel my heart beating in my throat some days just thinking about the work that needs to be done. But sometimes, I want to watch my daughter dance around the room like a ballerina. When she holds out a stuffed animal and tells me he’s sick, I want to ask what happened. I want to play with her. I want to pay attention to my son as he learns new words, to savor every mispronunciation. They outgrow them so fast. I want to watch my youngest rock back and forth on his hands and knees, anticipating his first crawling step. I don't want to tell them "not now" or "I'm busy" or "in a little bit."
But then when do I clean or cook? When can I paint? When do I finish planning those lessons for Sunday morning preschoolers? I can’t be the best mom and have the cleanest house and pursue the most crafty projects and be the most faithful church volunteer. It's impossible. And these are only a few of the ideals that tug on my heart. There is not enough time, not enough energy to fulfill them all.
As much as it pains me to admit it, I’m not perfect.
Only a day or two a month do I reach the end of my do-list by the end of the day. And some days, a lot of days, it really bugs my perfectionist brain. It’s like an itch in the middle of my back: I contort my arm and body trying to reach it thinking that once I scratch it, all will be right in my world.
But here’s the truth: getting through my do-list is not really what matters. I’ve deceived myself into thinking that the tasks that fill up my days are what matter the most.
That’s not true.
God’s opinion of me matters the most. And He doesn’t care whether I crossed off every task today. He cares about my attitude, about the state of my heart. As a follower of Christ, I am supposed to be filled with the Spirit, the Holy Spirit who transforms my heart to act with these qualities: “But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” Galations 5:22-23
Nowhere does it say the fruit of the Spirit is daily productivity. If I am truly filled with the Spirit, then the do-list is not my top priority. I can be free of the burden of being a perfect housewife. Does that mean I should neglect my responsibilities? No. But when I live with these characteristics on my heart, I’m altered. I’m free to love and work without letting the do-list measure my success. Acting out of love, I can change diapers, make lunch, read bedtime stories. I can continue joyfully through my day of work with peace. And if I work hard and don't finish it all, that’s alright. It’s not how God measures my success. He wants me to love, to be joyful and peaceful and patient, to act with kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I must let that be the measure of my success. Not “What did I get done today?” but “Did I produce the fruits of the Spirit today?”
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