Some days it seems like I’m not doing enough. Y’know? I read about people who put an end to foot-binding in China, women who live amongst the fierce Quichua tribe even after they killed her husband so that she could teach them love, and men who after they receive 39 lashings stand and sing. It makes me feel like I’m just not doing enough. Like there should be more.
Top this off with my very own circle of family and friends. Church planters in India? Check. Orphanage builders in Zambia? Check. Bush pilots in New Guinea? Check. There have been relocations to Ireland and adoptions from Africa, India, Canada and the U.S. People are doing big things! My people are doing big things!
This is where I fall on my knees and look up and quietly say, “Hey God. It’s me, Rhonda….”
The tendency of my heart is to wonder why of all places I live in Abbotsford. The bible-belt of Canada. Surely there are enough people doing enough things here already. From a tiny age adoption was the cry of my heart. I remember presenting my parents with the many options why we should adopt. I climbed atop their bed and put forth my request for a baby, preferably with chocolately coloured skin. This carried through and was a small point of contention in our marriage counseling because birthing babies was not in my plan. Oh, there were going to be babies but they would come from far and wide and be our children. Then I got pregnant once. twice. three times.
But God I had such big plans! Plans for you. To save children and help people and…and….
It seems in the quiet, mundane chores of my life is when I feel most connected to God, recently. When I’m gently serving, using my hands or soft words is when I know in my heart that he’s telling me this is it. This is where I need you. You are not out of my plan because you aren’t in a jungle. You are not out of my plan because your babies all resemble you. You are right where you are for big reasons. Big reasons like…
Your son’s duvet cover was ripping and he asked for a new one. Instead you got on your knees as he was snuggled up reading underneath it and you stitched it up quietly in front of his eyes.
You have a day off of work and your first inclinations are to go to yoga, or shop for a new sweater, or just read a book. Instead you spent the day pulling sheets off of everyone’s beds and while they tumbling are dry you organized everyone’s closets, set aside clothes outgrown for a friend and cleaned to the very back.
You are tired and you want to crawl into bed and just close your eyes. But you call the littles to come and gather ’round because there is scripture to be read, prayers to be said, challenges to be made. Suddenly, a little bursts into song complete with clapping and smile. A song you recently taught, with clapping and smile.
This is where you need to be. This is it. Your ministry is right here.
Today I taught a boy with no words at all that new isn’t better, we can fix the old and we don’t just toss things when we’re feeling done with them, we make it right.
Today I served my family in ways they will probably never appreciate but in so doing also taught that quiet service is just as important as lofty status.
Today we read of being prepared in season and out and we talked of ways we can share, love and teach those around us desiring to know.
We showed with our actions today that family worship is important, just by the doing.
It’s doesn’t always feel important here, in this place of being a mama and a wife and a homemaker. But it does feel right. It often feels like I’m not accomplishing enough, or on a grand enough scale, but when I see the smile or hear the prayer, I know it’s enough.
My ministry is home. Family. Friends. Sharing what we have. Being resourceful. Stewarding our finances well so we can share with those in need and proclaiming, “We just saved 75 bucks!” after stitching a duvet cover and my littles hearing often enough why we do this to say right back, “Sweet! Who are we going to give it to?”
Mamas. Your families need you in big ways, though they may seem small. They need you to teach, to guide, to laugh and to serve. They don’t always need elaborate toys or another sports event or for you to be the best crafter in the world. They need you. Simply you.. With your gifts, quirks, smiles. They need the lessons you’ve learned in your life passed on. They need scripture read in your reading voice whatever that may be. They need you to stitch their quilt or bandage their knee because these things are speaking even when we’re not.
You’re doing big things, mama. It is enough.