This morning, well intentioned, I sat down in my red chair, coffee in hand, Magnificat open, ready to be inspired and start a day full of busyness.
“I’m up a bit early, this is good.” I thought. I’ll start with a some of prayer and get on with my day.
I read the Gospel for today, and came to the famous words of Jesus, “Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.”
I sat back in my chair, eyes closed. I remembered previous days, back in college, when I had worked with the Missionaries of Charity in Rome. I remembered my job working at our local transitional children’s shelter. I recalled my busy time in the pro-life movement, when I would take poor pregnant women to St. Vincent de Paul for assistance, and help them to get their lights turned on and sign up for food stamps.
“Man, those were the days,” I thought. “When I really DID SOMETHING for the ‘least of these’.”
I’ve got to find something. It’s been so long. Surely there is a way for me and my family to do some good around here. Maybe we can volunteer at the Food Bank, organizing shelves of donations. Or, serve at our local homeless shelter. We could set up a fund-raiser, collecting donations for any number of services in our community. Yes, that will really open the eyes of my children. This will be good.
My children… they are all home today, off for President’s Day, and so I hurry to get started. I jot down my long to-do list for my work: web design clients to contact, projects to finish, projects to start, team members to communicate with. A few hours would be good this morning… to get something done. If I use my time well this morning, I’ll be way ahead. Best get started. I set up my laptop, refresh my cup of coffee, review my list in my planner, and set to work.
Then, the interruptions begin. Someone is hungry again, two are bickering over a doll, my oldest can’t find her book. The frustration rises in my chest. “If I could just have a little time to myself, this entire day would be so much better,” I thought.
My voice a bit raised, “Just a minute.”
“Mommy’s busy.”
Re-microwave my coffee.
Start working again.
“Mommy, I can’t find my favorite pencil…”
Seriously, a pencil? A pencil. I’m stopping everything to find a pencil.
“It’s that pretty white one with the green eraser. I love it.”
My chin drops to my chest, I take a deep breath, look up at the time on my laptop: 7:23 am. Great.
My gaze shifts over to my little daughter, and in the shifting, crosses over my planner, open to today’s date and tasks and that verse I had copied down only 45 minutes earlier. “Whatever you did not do for the least of these you did not do for me.”
Oh my God. My Lord and My God.
My least of these are 12 inches from my face, with bed tousled blonde hair and a nightgown covered in frogs.
Here am I, dreaming fantastic dreams, once again lost in my head. Reminiscing over past times of grand service, of making vegetable soup in a 700 year old Roman building next to the friends of Mother Teresa. My noble acts of helping a young mother set up a home for her soon-to-arrive newborn. Of rocking to sleep a scared child who doesn’t know who her mommy is. Yes, I was so good. The least of these.
But my very own children are such a bother.
I am constantly surprised how God’s will for my life really looks nothing like how I might imagine it to be. He turns everything upside down. He makes all things new. And surprising. When he walked the sandy roads of Galilee, he continuously shocked his followers. Yes, he’s been doing this for a very long time. And he still does, at least he does in this little house at the end of the culdesac.
Life is more challenging than I ever thought possible. From the surface, it all appears much less valiant than the visions in my head. No glamor here. This scene will never be painted on the front of a holy card. It’s raw and boring and messy and pulls at me in ways I never imagined. But, I know down to my very bones that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. No doubt.
“For each one of us, there is only one thing necessary: to fulfill our own destiny, according to God’s will, to be what God wants us to be.” – Thomas Merton
The wooden legs of my chair squeak against the tile floor.
“Yes, love, let me help you find your pencil. Where do you think you saw it last?”
The least of these in my own house are WAAAAY harder to deal with most days… it’s an ongoing lesson for me, too, my friend! :)
Yes, Sarah, I bet our days look very similar! :) Nice to know there are mommies out there that can relate to the crazy goodness!
While I read, my least little ones spill their spaghetti noodles all over the already sticky kitchen floor, beg me for an apple, and quietly eat hotdogs. I’m super excited at the hotdot eating because it’s a meat product that’s not breaded and he’s eating it! I’ve already run the dishwasher once and there’s enough dirty in my sinks and on the counter top to fill another load or more. I chuckle because we have an engaged couple we will be sponsoring visiting tonight for the first time. I’ll ‘clean’ and it’ll still look ‘lived in.’ Posts like this and other reminders are always welcome to encourage us to continue with the little every day things. Each diaper change (and right now someone making a pretty package for me) and snotty tissue is me fulfilling my vocation. No matter what the house looks like, if everyone’s alive at the end of the day, I did my job. :)
Yes! If everyone is still alive at the end of the day, I did my job! :) Love it!
Someone once said to me, “They aren’t getting in the way of your work; they ARE your work.” I have to remind myself of that daily…hourly.
very true, Jenna! Glad you understand, since you’re an item on my to-do list! :)
Never any rush with me ;)
Oh, this is so relate–able! When these moments of realization happen to me, I’m reminded of my teaching years and work days, when we were able to meet as teams and work in our classrooms while students had a holiday. We would laugh about how much we could get done at schools without all those kids around!
I think the beauty of this post is it can speak to hearts of mothers, yes, but to others, also. To the nurse who is overwhelmed by patients and their visitors. To the receptionist who has to keep answering the phone or directing people to where they belong. To anyone who dreams lofty dreams of heroic service in the midst of what seems an ordinary life. One of my fellow teachers used to remind us that we didn’t have to dream of the missionary field; our classrooms were the missionary field. And so are our homes and our workplaces.
I always need this reminder, so thank you, friend!
Loved this post!! :)
This is really and truly a reminder we all need so often. I think it’s beautiful that God gave you a heart and a mind for dreaming big dreams. How wonderful to have memories of extraordinary experiences to keep kindling those desires. They will inspire your children to do great things one day, too! But what a testament it is to them that you view your vocation as their mother just as highly. Your mission to serve in the day to day “little way” is just as magnificent, in God’s eyes.
I am craving a missionary experience for our family (whether it be 5 miles from home or 5,000) I know I must be patient for the right “season” of our family life to do the “big” things. But in the meantime, I am so gratefully encouraged by women like you, who live their vocations with beautiful patience and wisdom.
I love the 7:23 am picture of you. Maybe if I am bold enough I will post one of me too!
You brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face. Thank, Lauren. :)
Beautiful post, Lauren. I love your wise words and wonderfully real pictures! This was also so relate-able to me. My BFF is a volunteer workhorse! It’s amazing what she gets done in a week. I admit I’ve had twinges of jealousy wishing I, too, could do what she does. (But the perks of being so popular because everyone knows you and your incredible efforts would probably go to my head…not so for my humble friend though.) I’m realizing that being a single mom and helping a 15 year old deal with the loss of her father 3 months fresh, IS my vocation. And like you, there are no glory moments of collapsing into bed knowing I made a big difference in a lot of strangers lives. I DO know that today and yesterday I did my darndest to be the best mom I can be for Katie. I have given everything I’ve got, and I’ll do it again tomorrow. Because this person needs me and no one else can do what I’m doing for her.
I did get to reach out to a stranger today though… As I was leaving a doctor appointment walking into the parking lot, I looked up and saw “Bryan Fire Dept” on the back of a man’s shirt. This weekend’s loss of two firemen hit close to home as my brother is a fireman in Florida. I caught up to the young man and asked if I could hug him. We hugged and cried – and I told him we’re praying for all BFD and the families. I knew Greg Pickard, one of the heroes. His daughter was in my Girl Scout troop 20 years ago and our girls spent the night at each other’s homes. That small gesture had a big effect on my heart. I did it for him, but it helped me.
I feel like, in my small way, I lived today’s Gospel message. It’s all about opening our hearts and letting the love pour out. And I think this is how we live the Eucharist (my morning prayer/plea). It’s what we do. The Eucharist is meant to be lived.
You know these are all words that speak directly to our hearts. So glad to read this today! Thank you!!
Wonderful post, Lauren!!
It’s so easy to feel like doing for our own children isn’t as important as doing something bigger or more public. Some days I amuse myself by thinking about what was the least glamorous moment of my mommy day – good for a few laughs to be sure :) Thanks for the reminder that our children are our first least ones. I hope the rest of your day was filled with moments – big and small – that made you smile!
Marilee
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