When Little Is Enough
The past few weeks have been a struggle for me. I have a lot of friends doing a lot of amazing things. They are living the big picture, and I'm so excited for them. I have big dreams for myself, too. Dreams that are worthwhile and good and may someday come to fruition. My heart races a little and my mind wanders, and then I look around me again. The laundry is piled up, the toys are scattered on the floor, and three little voices are saying, "Mommy! Mommy!" I find myself wondering, Is this my big mission? Does any of this really matter in the grand scheme of things?
What do I do when I know I'm called to take part in some great story that began before my time and will continue long after it when my daily tasks are things like tying shoes and washing dishes? I have struggled long and hard these weeks with the shadow of insignificance, with feeling shelved until my kids are old enough that the messes are fewer (or at least until they're at school and not at home making them!) and my time opens up for other ministry. I've struggled to feel like I'm worth much of anything in my current position.
As I was bustling around, fretting about my long to-do list and trying to balance it with spending time with my kids, I heard these words echoing through my mind, "Martha, Martha...you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:40-42). In the context of the verse, Jesus meant that Mary's choice to sit at his feet was the better choice. And I do try to take time to sit at his feet. But in my particular situation, it seemed fitting that those words would be on my mind. There are a great many things I could be doing with my life. But I have chosen (and, yes, it was a choice!) to sit at my children's feet for this short time that they are here. It was a gentle, timely reminder.
The dreams are still there, and I'm finding ways to slowly move forward in the direction of some of them, without sacrificing my biggest calling and ministry. I'm also learning to recognize when I have too many irons in the fire, when it's time to pull back. There's ebb and flow. But this mission to raise my children and touch the lives of anyone whose path I cross is far from insignificant. It may be less visible. It may be less frantic. But if for now all I do is sit at my children's feet and listen to their words, it will be enough.
What do I do when I know I'm called to take part in some great story that began before my time and will continue long after it when my daily tasks are things like tying shoes and washing dishes? I have struggled long and hard these weeks with the shadow of insignificance, with feeling shelved until my kids are old enough that the messes are fewer (or at least until they're at school and not at home making them!) and my time opens up for other ministry. I've struggled to feel like I'm worth much of anything in my current position.
As I was bustling around, fretting about my long to-do list and trying to balance it with spending time with my kids, I heard these words echoing through my mind, "Martha, Martha...you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Luke 10:40-42). In the context of the verse, Jesus meant that Mary's choice to sit at his feet was the better choice. And I do try to take time to sit at his feet. But in my particular situation, it seemed fitting that those words would be on my mind. There are a great many things I could be doing with my life. But I have chosen (and, yes, it was a choice!) to sit at my children's feet for this short time that they are here. It was a gentle, timely reminder.
The dreams are still there, and I'm finding ways to slowly move forward in the direction of some of them, without sacrificing my biggest calling and ministry. I'm also learning to recognize when I have too many irons in the fire, when it's time to pull back. There's ebb and flow. But this mission to raise my children and touch the lives of anyone whose path I cross is far from insignificant. It may be less visible. It may be less frantic. But if for now all I do is sit at my children's feet and listen to their words, it will be enough.
