October 12, 2010

One Body, Many Moms

I have become that which I swore I would not (younger readers, take note: be very careful of saying you will never -- God takes pretty good notes!). I drive a minivan, I don't get a shower in as often as I would like to, I don't have a wardrobe that majors in purchases from Talbot's, and the people I see most often outside family are the clerks at the grocery store and Wal-Mart. Seriously. I'm on a first-name basis with the clerks.

Another "not me!" item was that I didn't see myself attending MOPS. MOPS made me think of, well, mops. Women managing to take an hour off drudgery, so desperate to get out of the house that they would pay people to take their kids, yet still be wearing knit drawstring pants and no make-up. Now that I'm a mom, I understand paying people to take your kids for a little while, and as I type I'm wearing knit drawstring pants and no make-up. Budgeting money is important, but not as important to a mom as budgeting her time and energy. If I know a day's schedule is hectic, then I want a few other things (like make-up and photo-ready outfits) off my to-do list.

SO... at the MOPS meeting I attended today our speaker compared lives to apples: if there is rot at the core, it impacts the seeds that are planted later. In order to plant healthy seeds, I need to identify areas of decay or rot in my defaults and behaviors. This idea, though new in form, was not a new concept for me. The side note that falls into what Mac would call a "beam-knocker" (like when you whack your head resoundingly against an overhead beam) was this: if there's a girl friend I admire (and even resent a bit) for doing something well, I could ask for her help or suggestions instead of comparing myself to her and feeling depressed about my assumed failures.

I've thought of this where the church (as in, body of believers, not just one building) is concerned, and I'm comfortable knowing that hospitality is not something that comes naturally to me. I'd never thought of if where being a mom or wife was concerned. Case in point? I have a girlfriend whose house always seems to be freshly decorated and neat as a pin. There are many things I do well, but housecleaning is not my forte. Our house is presentable, but it's very obvious someone lives here -- lives here with a large, black dog, as a matter of fact. Rather than mentally smacking myself because I haven't vacuumed in over a week or only just got around to changing bed sheets (sheets taken from the basket of laundry that's been sitting in the living room for a week) -- I am better off recognizing that there are probably things my girl friend wishes she did better, even (dare I say it?) that she did as well as I do.

This morning had a relieving measure of grace added to my shoulders. Because of it, it's OK with me that the laundry is still sitting in the living room. --All right, it's almost OK with me, but I'm working on it!

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