It’s late, the kids are in bed. The husband is relaxing, as should be done at 9pm on a weeknight. You? You’re in the kitchen, still cleaning the dishes. Prepping breakfast for the next day. Packing lunches. Making sure you have everything you need for the next night’s dinner.
There are 2 baskets of laundry, sitting unfolded. Your husband has no socks and your son is missing a shirt for school spirit day tomorrow. You would love a hot bath and a glass of wine, but instead you sit, painstakingly folding each piece. You wonder how so few people can dirty up so many clothes.
You go to bed tired. Thinking about the to-do list for the next day. It’s eerily similar to today. Cooking, cleaning, diaper changes, school pick-up. You don’t get a break before 9 or after 5. You have no weekends or holidays off, and yet you choose to have this job. They say it’s the best job in the world, although sometimes, you wonder how that can be said so often.
It’s hard work, this thing called motherhood. It’s not often appreciated and as much as I’d like it to be, it isn’t glamorous. But that hard work matters. You matter. You’re needed more than you get credit for and probably more than you’ll ever know. Your purpose lies in the commitment to be what God made you to be:
I needed to read that quote today. To remember that my purpose isn’t found in the praising words of people. That I don’t need my ego stroked to know who I am and what I’m here for.
I’m doing the very thing I’m called in life to do.
I’m raising boys to love God, to do good and to be kind. I am, on a daily basis, shaping lives that can change the world. That is what I call purpose.