No Ordinary Sparrow: The Real Life of A House Wife

That's right, the real life of a house wife includes laundry.

Lots of laundry.

And what's the last thing to get folded?

The socks.

This is what I have to look forward to every week. These are just the whites. I've already folded the colored ones.

The other week, I was having a little pity party for my sock folding self. I mean really, when you look at this pile does it look like fun?

Besides, every time I get through the pile, I still have to deal with this:

The unmatchables.

Where oh where do their partners dissapear to?

Anyway, I know I'm supposed to make my kids help with the sock folding duties. Teach them responsibility and all that. Sometimes I do, because I believe in that. But sometimes I get caught up in the - I can get it done faster, easier and better on my own - mentality. Or sometimes, I'm doing laundry while the kids are working on their school lessons.

Anyway, mid pity party, I had an epiphany. I love it when that happens.

Epiphanies are really just God speaking to my heart.

It went a little like this:

Me: "Guh! Look at all these socks! I really hate folding these socks. It takes forever to match them all up, even though I buy the ones with the colored bottoms just to make it easier. And I never buy the same kind twice so I don't have old socks that match new socks, because who wants to wear one old stained sock with one new spiffy sock. Who am I kidding? They'll all look like old grimy socks in two weeks. How do people keep socks white anyway? I think Martha lies. She doesn't have boys, she has no idea how to whiten these whites with lemon juice and who knows what else.
I know, maybe I'll just separate out all Troys socks from the boys socks and dump all the boys socks in a box. A box of socks. Then, when they need socks, they can just grab some out of the sock box. Wait, do I really want them running around with mismatched socks? Aarghh, o.k., I'll fold the blasted socks. grumble, grumble, grumble . . . ."
God: (I'm not gonna use quotes because there are no exact words or voices here. Just thoughts that wouldn't really come from my selfish heart.) Remember when you loved folding socks when they were tiny baby socks?
Me: "Yeah, they were so cute! So itty bitty. And they stayed clean! Unless they stuck their little foot in the poopy diaper while being changed. Yuck! Kinda glad those days are over. I used to wash the tiny socks in a lingerie bag so they wouldn't get eaten by the dryer. (light bulb moment! I could do this with all these bigger boy socks too!)
God: Is this really a task worth grumbling over? I mean yeah, it's not fun, but don't you remember that I can redeem all of your time into something worthwhile. What if instead of grumbling, you prayed for the little boy whose socks you're folding? What if, instead of grumbling or whining, you intentionally changed your attitude and had joy over folding these socks? You have three precious little boys' socks to fold. Remember what that Song by Steven Curtis Chapman says? "Do everything you do to the glory of the One who made you, cause He made you." Isn't that what you're trying to teach your little boys? So suck it up Mama, it's time to change that attitude. Your folding socks for My glory today.

Seriously, this is what it sounds like in my head! And He's right. I have had a great mentor over the years who taught me this same concept. Her achille's heel was dishes though. Same song, different verse.
She taught me and the other moms at MOPs a little song that goes like this: "washing the dishes Lord, washing the dishes. Living for your Glory, washing the dishes." You can insert any hated household chore in the place of dishes. Like changing poopy diapers, scrubbing the toilet, waking up in the middle of the night to respond to an irrational 2 year old who's still technically asleep for the 3rd night in a row - well, you get the point.

All that to say, I love being a mom. I love being a house wife (as unglorious as the world has tried to make that title sound). But sometimes, in the midst of the mundane, dirty and less than spectacular tasks, I lose my focus. I need a reminder about what it's all about. What I'm all about.

Bringing glory to God. With everything I do.

1 Corinthians 10:31 "So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." (emphasis mine)

And with laundry like this every week, that gives me a lot of time to glorify God.