I have a confession to make. I struggle, and I mean really struggle, with feeling
insignificant at times. I’m not saying this so that everyone can respond with
kind reassurances that I really am significant.
I know that I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have down days.
I don’t get much accomplished on down days. Unless you
consider reading the posts on all my friend’s facebook pages and catching up on
all my turns in Scramble with Friends accomplishments. On the really down days, it can be a struggle
just to get up off the couch to make lunch for my kids. The fact that I’m a
stay-at-home mom doesn’t exactly help me put up a good fight. The best cure for
the blues is the polar opposite of what my typical day looks like. And thus,
the vicious battle for my mind ensues.
Does anything that
I’m doing count for eternity? Will my children even remember all the sacrifices
I made for them when they get older? Will the wisdom that I’ve tried to impart
to them be discarded someday for the latest and greatest way of thinking? Or am
I too caught up in the daily grind to even take the time to impart wisdom to
them? Do I honestly demonstrate to them what it means to love someone
unconditionally?
And what of the world outside my home bubble? Am I really
giving my all to minister to those
around me? Am I loving my neighbor as myself? Am I taking the Gospel to the
ends of the earth? Does my life inspire those around me to seek Christ? If I
died, would I have left a lasting mark on this world? Would my life have
counted for something?
When I was younger, I was one hundred percent certain that I
would one day be a full-time missionary. I had no interest in being “lukewarm,”
and I desperately wanted God to use me to make a real difference in the world. I went on all the mission trips that
were available to me in high school, started out as a Spanish major in college,
and married a man who thought he was interested in missions as well. We looked
into several different missions organizations, but then his excitement fizzled
out. It was just the natural result of me trying to force my dream onto him. I
pursued a psychology degree in lieu of a missions-oriented degree, in hopes
that I could minister as a guidance counselor or something similar here in the
states. (Until he realized of course that his true calling was on the mission
field overseas.)
Isaiah settled into a
career with Sherwin Williams, we moved to Baltimore, and just five months after
graduating college, we found out we were expecting our first child. That
well-known John Lennon quote rang true for us. “Life is what happens to you
while you’re busy making other plans.”
Four kids and nine years later, here we are. In the same
town we grew up in. Not on the mission field. Not even in ministry positions.
What happened? Well, life happened.
After a year in Baltimore, Isaiah was promoted to store
manager just a couple hours from our former home sweet home. It had finally
sunk in that we wouldn’t be going to the mission field soon, so I determined that
I would participate in missions right where God had planted me. Thus, the
“Hands and Feet” ministry of Wytheville Baptist Church was born. We organized a
local clothes closet for the needy, gave out free hot chocolate at Walmart on a
chilly day, cleaned out gutters for local widows, and more. Isaiah and I also
volunteered as leaders in the church youth group. I was finally “being used” by
God, and yet somehow it wasn’t enough.
In my frustration I hijacked the role of the Holy Spirit in
the life of my husband. I convinced him that he was called to be a youth
pastor, and so we made the decision to return to our beloved Lynchburg, where
he could work and take seminary courses for free at Liberty University. My four
years of “patience” had paid off. As soon as he received his degree, he would
apply for a ministry position somewhere that we were really needed, and God would use us in amazing
ways.
[Now enters the birth of our second child.]
Rather than wait until his degree was complete to seek out a
ministry position, Isaiah decided to accept a part-time youth pastor job in
addition to his regular job and seminary work. I was hesitant because of our
growing list of major life changes, but who was I to turn down a genuine
opportunity to be used by God? And so, we found ourselves in a small town, an
even smaller church, and leading a still smaller group of teens. I was living
the dream. That is, until the dream came crashing down around me.
From the outside, things probably looked fine, but boy can
looks ever be deceiving. Adjusting to two, and very soon three, children was
tougher than I had anticipated for a suck-it-up-cupcake gal like myself. I
struggled to even keep my faith for myself, much less impart it to these
teenagers who were looking to me for guidance. Our marriage was struggling, I
battled depression on and off, and that voice telling me that I needed to
change the world was STILL there insisting I wasn’t doing enough. Life seemed
so hopeless and shallow. Certainly all was vanity.
Then God radically changed my outlook on life. (Story
recorded here, if you're interested: http://mykidsfavoritemom.blogspot.com/2013/12/peace-on-earth.html)
Not only did my anger and skepticism diminish, but God
gradually began to transform my thinking in many different areas of my life.
Eventually I had to be honest with myself about this consuming desire I had to
be used by God to change the world. It took several years, but I can finally
(on most days) acknowledge that my life as a homemaker has the potential to
glorify God just as much as it would
if I were involved in full-time missions, or even a full-time job of any kind.
I was thinking earlier today about Mary, the mother of
Jesus, and what an unglamorous life she lived. She may be praised now, but she
certainly wasn’t while she was alive. (Which is, you know, typically when it’s
nice to receive some affirmation.) She endured long days filled with diaper
changes, child rearing, house cleaning, food preparation, etc., much like the
women of today, except without our modern conveniences. I think it’s safe to
say that Joseph was a typical man, so there was no fairy tale marriage to be
spoken of. Mary lived a normal life with normal problems. Jesus didn’t even perform
his first miracle until he was thirty, so she couldn’t even take advantage of
his ability to clean the house with a snap of his fingers. How frustrating
would that be?! Even when Jesus began to gain some fame, he still wasn’t
respected in his own hometown. (So much so that they tried to throw him off a
cliff.) Somehow I doubt Mary benefitted from her son’s renown in the slightest.
And THEN she had to watch him die an excruciating death.
All this to say that by normal standards, Mary didn’t live a
life that most would envy. And yet, she lived a tremendously significant life. A difficult, mostly monotonous, but
beautiful life. A life that changed the world forever.
So it follows that I don’t need to feel significant to be significant.
I don’t need to ask God to use me, because my prayer becomes more about me than
about God. It focuses on my emotional state rather than what he’s already told
me is good… “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”
(Micah 6:8) Pretty simplistic. He didn’t
ask me to change the world, because ultimately he’s the one who does that. I’m just called to remain faithful,
even when I don’t feel like it.
God already told me that my life had meaning, and I need to
take him at his word.
I was created in the
very image of God. (Gen. 1:26)
God himself knit me
together. (Ps. 139:13)
God loved me before I ever did anything to try and please him. (Rom. 5:8)
There is a plan for my life- one that is filled with the
hope of God. (Jer. 29:11)
The power of Christ is manifested in my weakness, not in my
strength. (II Cor. 12:9)
Am I saying that I plan to stop trying to please God, live a
life of relative ease, and haphazardly wait for God to shove me through open
doors? Certainly not. I’m called to daily take up my cross and follow Christ.
Doesn’t sound like a walk in the park to me.
But I also know that I’m called to trust God with the results of my labors. Abraham and Sarah had to
wait an awfully long time to see God’s promises fulfilled. So did Noah. So did
Moses. The list goes on and on. I might have to wait a long time, too, or I
might never even know how I’ve impacted the lives of others. But the point is-
it doesn’t matter. I’m asked to give my all, and I will. And when I don’t, I’ll
put the past behind me and press on towards the goal.
Sometimes I have to lay down these feelings of worthlessness again, so I can be reminded of the truth. My worth is not tied up in visible
accomplishments. I’m not God, but I am significant. I’m here for a reason, and
I make a difference. So the next time I have a down day, I need only look up to
remember that my life has a purpose. And so does yours.
“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are
wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and
momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs
them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since
what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” II Corinthians 4:16-18