It seems I rarely go anywhere anymore. Especially this time of year, when the weather is cold, the days shorter, and my energy level a little lower. Yesterday, however, was a rare day and I was gone for most of it. As I pulled out of the driveway, I thought of how I hadn't left the house for the last 2 days, and how, when I was a young wife and mother, I nearly hated to be at home. Horrible, I know. But it's true. And now, though I love an adventure as much as ever, I relish the days of being "stuck" at home with a toddler, homeschooling a teenager, staying connected with my older daughters, and dealing with all the little things that my life usually consists of. I wish I had those years again with a more willing heart to serve my family instead of spending so many hours wishing for something that didn't belong to me--my life.
But there is beauty in this lesson, and one I hope to pass along to others. Serving my husband and children is a joy-filled life of the most wonderful things: self-sacrifice, self-deprivation, loss of identity, and unrealized dreams. And I am the most grateful woman alive because of it. Don't bother trying to talk me into "finding myself", or preparing for empty nest opportunities that are full of self-serving ambition under the guise of living a full life. I won't do it. I have too many unknown, last-minute calls for service and ministering that I need to be ready for and I won't fill my life with artificial busyness in order to prove my worth to society, or even to other Christians.
Someone once told me, "Jesus's ministry only lasted 3.5 years but he was still able to say to the Father, 'It is finished'".
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