Stretched into Strength--Finding Grace in the Monotony of Stay-At-Home-Mothering

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And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.

~ Galatians 6:9 NKJV

4pm. 

The most difficult time of the day for me. 

I'm a stay-at-home mom--

To an eight-month-old and a two-year-old. 

4 pm -- the time when my creativity is waning, when we've read the same book over and over again, when the blocks are not enticing anymore.

The time when the baby is especially fussy and when my two-year-old is getting edgy. 

4pm in the heart of winter--

When we can't go outside because of the cold, when my eyes keep drifting to the clock on my desk and pleading silently for the minute hands to move 

just a little faster. 

Stay-at-home-mothering has drawn me to the Lord in ways that I never experienced--

Challenged me in ways I've never been challenged--

The Lord is building tensile strength--

I remember Elisabeth Elliot writing about it -- tensile strength -- capable of being drawn out or stretched--

Little did I realize then, what it would take, how painful the stretching -- centimeter by agonizing centimeter--

And how  often my heart would cry -- Enough!

This is too much for me, Lord -- too painful, 

And I don't think that I can bear it anymore. 

But then the Lord reaching down and speaking, Trust Me. 

Trust Me, 

Trust Me. 

And the stretching would continue.

We pray to the Lord, we pour out our devotion -- we ascend to the mountaintop and we are inspired--

To raise godly children--

To walk continually in the presence of the Lord,

To pray without ceasing.

The mountaintop is a beautiful place.

But then the Lord brings us down into the valley--

The valley where we cannot see the mountaintop so well -- it looks so far away--

And He stretches us--

Through monotony, through the mundane activities of daily life, through the trials and testings that He brings into our lives in order to draw us closer to himself.

He brings us into the valley.

Oswald Chambers puts it this way--

We have all experienced times of exaltation on the mountain, when we have seen things from God’s perspective and have wanted to stay there. But God will never allow us to stay there. The true test of our spiritual life is in exhibiting the power to descend from the mountain. If we only have the power to go up, something is wrong. It is a wonderful thing to be on the mountain with God, but a person only gets there so that he may later go down and lift up the demon-possessed people in the valley (see Mark 9:14-18). We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life— those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life, and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength. Yet our spiritual selfishness always wants repeated moments on the mountain. We feel that we could talk and live like perfect angels, if we could only stay on the mountaintop. Those times of exaltation are exceptional and they have their meaning in our life with God, but we must beware to prevent our spiritual selfishness from wanting to make them the only time.

We just can't  stay on the mountain of inspiration and resolve and soaring high--

The valley beckons -- the painful valley where hard lessons had to be learned--

Lessons that the Lord will use to build tensile strength in our souls--

Strength that can withstand pressure, strength to press on. 

The Lord is our strength . . . 

Even at 4 pm.

At 4 pm, I can't escape. I can't take a "coffee break," I can't go shopping alone to relieve some of my stress. 

I can't spend uninterrupted time with the Lord to stabilize my weary heart, body, and mind with His Word. 

I have to cry out to the Lord in the moment, recall a verse to mind that I have committed to memory, take each minute at a time, and trust in Him for strength and grace through my weakness. 

I have to cling to Him as I go and do the next thing that I am able.

I have to pour myself out and minister to these little souls when I feel like I am the one who needs ministering to--

Me, me, me--

I'm tired; I'm hungry, 

I just want a break.

But I can't have it--

And this is where tensile strength is built. 

I could crumble -- sometimes I do -- sometimes I dissolve in tears--

But then I cry out to the Lord and He picks me up as I hold on to His strength--

He can do it through me--

Not I, but Christ--

Stay-at home mothering has built in me tensile strength that nothing else has been able to do. 

Nights that I am awake in the wee hours, comforting, feeding, loving--

Mornings when I just want a few minutes to myself, but a child needs me -- feed them breakfast, change a diaper, pray with them, get them dressed... 

An event where I just want to talk to other adults, but a little one claims my hand and my lap and my heart--

Days that go by when I'm not able to wash my hair or take a shower or read a book--

They are so little -- and their needs are so great. 

In a moment, they will be grown--

Do I want to waste these precious days worrying about my own needs, or will I pour myself out?

Will I allow the Lord to pull me through, to build tensile strength -- strength in Him, or will I melt under the pressure, the pressure of monotony and minutes ticking, ticking, ticking--

Or will I take each moment as a gift, pray through my moments, surrender them to Jesus, 

Trust Him to help me when the baby is fussy, fussy, fussy, and the two-year-old is clamoring for love and attention?

It is worth it -- it is worth it -- it is worth it -- pouring ourselves out for these little ones who are eternal souls, bringing them to Jesus, nurturing, loving, caring for--

We are doing it for Him...

And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward. (Matthew 10:42)

Never forget, we are doing it for Him...

And He is building tensile strength -- when we take His grace for each moment -- when we reach to Him in our need in our weakness, when we surrender.

He is there.

And we can trust Him.

Even when we feel weak, even when we think that we just can't bear the stretching any more--

He is building tensile strength.

Especially at 4pm.

  

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To the Weary, Rest

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
’Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary, rest.

Dear Name, the Rock on which I build,
My Shield and Hiding Place,
My never failing treasury, filled
With boundless stores of grace!
-John Newton

Soothing words, comforting words, gracious words, words of life and peace. Words of rest . . . it was one of those days, those days of “struggling” through, of waiting until quarter to nine to put the baby to sleep, and breathing a sigh of relief when I finally laid her in her crib. Sometimes the soul craves rest more than other times. Sometimes it reaches out for peace and that sense of security that only comes from the throne of grace, and sometimes it feels like you’re groping in the dark. Sometimes I have to struggle for peace and sometimes my attitudes of worry and frustration and fear only go, as Oswald Chambers says, by “kicking.” Peace can’t live next to agitation; the clods of the soul need to be broken and raked over, and the soil tilled. Only then can the sweet seeds of peace be sown.

Sometimes I need to ask myself--Is Jesus really my peace or am I looking for comfort in anything and everything but Him? And am I content in the day-to-day situations that He places me in, or is there always an undercurrent of frustration?

Having a child changes everything. You no longer have “free time,” time to spend alone in solitude (at least not for very long), time to journal as often, time to pray without interruption. I used to write in a journal almost every day; now I look months back to see where my last entry has been.

Everyone needs an outlet, or so “they” say . . . the proverbial “they.” You need time to yourself with no interuptions, “free” time, time to kick back and relax and let someone else take care of things for you.

My “outlet” used to be cleaning or weeding the garden. I feel relaxed when I clean and like it when things are being put back in “order”.

Now, I Iook around my room and there is a pair of pink-Debbie-socks on the floor, a pile of laundry waiting to be put away, dust in places that I never imagined possible, and various other miscellaneous items.

Never before would my uptight person have stood for this, but now, there are weightier things to contend with and the mess can be gradually dealt with on a day-to-day basis. If I need to fold the laundry perfectly, then I might not be able to read as many books to my daughter. So I do what is most important, and then leave the rest to grace, picking things up along the way and sometimes just laughing when I can’t keep up and then doing it later.

Sometimes you need to give up your “outlet.” Sometimes you can’t hand the child to someone else when you are overwhelmed and you just need to cry out to God for His grace in your present need. Many times, for me, frustration is a means to escape, a chance to let someone else deal with what has been given to me. I complain to evoke a response and then I go away and sulk while someone else picks up the pieces. “Children are a treasure from the Lord” . . . until their teeth are coming in, or they are fussy and cranky, until they are sick and whiny and tired.

So we look for comfort . . . we feel frustrated, we feel overwhelmed, so we look for an outlet, in whatever form it may take. Maybe a glass of wine (if you are someone who drinks), maybe a shopping trip or a spending “indulgence,” maybe a plate of cookies, maybe turning on the TV or watching a favorite movie.

And there is nothing wrong with any of those things, per se, but if I am looking for comfort in any of them or seeking to escape from my problems through them, rather than depending upon the God of all Comfort, then I am worshiping a different god, a strange god, a god who “heals the wound” slightly and makes me feel better only for the moment.

When the movie is over, when the cookies are gone, when the husband is frustrated that he’s been handed the baby for too long, when the credit card bill comes in, then the emptiness comes back, with a dull ache that wasn’t there before. Because now we must face whatever we were running from, without our little god to hide behind. And nothing about our circumstances has changed; the same frustration and angst are there and they won’t easily be sent away.

Now I am not saying that there is never a time that we can take a break from the "daily grind," or step away from a situation to find respite and peace and refreshment. What I am saying is that we shouldn't be dependent upon these outward escapes for our sense of well-being; our dependence should be upon the Lord, who at times, will refresh us through whatever means He allows in our lives. Otherwise, we come to need/depend upon these other avenues of satisfaction rather than Him alone Who gives all good and refreshing things.

Having a child sometimes “forces” one to realize that there are times when you cannot run away from a situation. Sometimes you have to take care of the kids when you feel so sick that you can’t stand up or so tired that you don’t think that you can keep your eyes open or have the energy to cook dinner. Another life is dependent upon you and you can’t drop the ball and take a nap.

Having children is an opportunity to build “tensile strength,” as Elisabeth Elliot calls it, an opportunity to learn discipline and perseverance and sacrifice in ways that you never may have imagined.

And it is worth it . . . raising a child in the love and the fear and the reverence of the Lord Jesus is worth it, and there are no regrets. It is worth the forfeited trip, the lack of showers, the dirty laundry, the fragmented times of prayer that somehow the Father picks up and hears and answers. And He “giveth more grace” when the burden is heavier . . .

It is getting late, and I hear the sweet sound of the crickets and feel the dark, lovely night wind and I know that He is here. His presence soothes and I am safe, without any outlet but Him. “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,” and His gentle love anoints my head with grace.


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