02 April 2009


God calls the humility bluff of every woman who becomes a mother. We humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord, because we have very little choice in the matter. Anyone claiming to be Christian must say that he would, of course, happily do whatever work to which God appoints him. But women have particular opportunity to put the money of their lives where their Christian mouths are. A mother's home is a landfill and a sewage treatment plant, and she is not the foreman. She is the grunt in a position with no upward mobility. She does, even on Mother's Day, those jobs we give as examples of the jobs no one wants to do.

Then--then! When she knows what she is getting into--not like that first time around when being pregnant and having a smiley baby to carry around seemed like methods of enhancing personal cuteness--she does not veer onto the first exit ramp, but says, "I guess I'll stick with this." She starts to get it. She's not that awesome. She's not too good or too smart or
too delicate for any job in the kingdom. Better to spray out noxious diapers in the King's service than to idle away her days trying on flirty shoes in the harem of His enemy, because someday that perv is going to remember her and call her name.

Even the little dogs eat the crumbs which fall from the master's table. Yip yip yip.

Never could walk in these anyway.


Marie said...

Humility... that's right! I remember the one family in church that I always criticized about their poor parenting skills, of course before I had any children! Now, we have those same problems in church... and who's there to help and encourage us when things feel hopeless? The family I ridiculed. God, forgive me!

I actually worked as a nurse's aid (when I signed up for the job, I thought I'd be taking blood pressures and temperatures, and making good money!) for a couple of summers before/during college. I was shocked during the on the job training to discover that I, yes, I would be dressing, bathing and, changing the soiled adult diapers of the elderly residents. (How sad that their own families weren't there...) That's the working world... I'd much rather be changing the smaller (well, usually!) BMs of my very own children than out in that working world=) No wonder so many of my co-workers were bitter! Giving up time with their own children (or cutting their child-bearing years short) to be changing others!

Joy said...

Do those shoes come in double wide? They'd coordinate so well with my burp rag.

Gauntlets said...

Marie, you're alright. That job is hardcore.

I miss cute shoes. No, that's not quite right. I miss having feet that fit into cute shoes. No . . . hold on . . . what I really miss is having feet that fit into cute shoes AND having a reason to wear cute shoes.

I don't really miss any of it. But it's so nice to have something to say. :D

Reb. Mary said...

Sewage treatment plant. Yeah. Yeah. WHY?!?!? Oh yeah. Humility. Sigh.

Pam said...

Marie, I would have to agree with you that I much prefer cleaning up my children's messes than those I cleaned up as a CNA.

Really though, I enjoyed that job, just didn't want to do it forever. I learned great stuff and worked in three different nursing homes, both as a CNA in the dietary department. It's really humbling to see these people reduced to such a sad state, and I don't just mean their deterioration, but moreso the lack of dignity with which they are so SO often treated. Yay for families who are both willing and able to care for their relatives at this stage, but I also know how many cases there are where it just isn't possible. Though in my experience there were more cases where they weren't even trying to be there.

But I could go on and on with that soapbox topic...

If it maybe is more pertinent to the actual post to say, I'll comment that the more we stick with the treatment plant task, the more likely we are to have servant children who WILL be there to care for us... oh, and the more there are, the easier the load on them since they'll be able to share it.

Remember how our kids learn so early on to share? Love that. Good life lesson, the more habit it becomes and the earlier, the less thought it requires later on... becomes second nature.

Good grief, I hope that all makes some sense. Feeling a little zombie-ish here today myself.