Motherhood Matters

Tools of the trade.

I stepped in poop twice today.

It might have been the baby. It might have been the potty-training-toddler. I can’t rule out my three-year-old. Who knows? He does think poop is hilarious.

I stepped in poop today and Satan began whispering.

He told me that I was nothing. As I knelt on the floor to scrub the poop off the carpet he whispered to me,

“You are so much better than this. Your family doesn’t appreciate you. Look at the children in there, playing games while you scrape poop off the floor. Where is your husband? Yeah, that’s right, he’s off hanging out with his buddies, pretending he’s working, and he is going to come home and expect you to serve him, too.”

I shook the words off and busied myself with the less disgusting needs of the household, but then, just a few hours later, I stepped in poop again. Satan once again piped up,

“Girl, you need to get out there. You could be making something of yourself. You are smart. Go do something where people will respect you. You don’t want to waste your life away cleaning poop off your feet and off the floor, do you? Don’t you want to do something that matters? Don’t you want to be seen?”

My heart was pounding and my fists were clenching. I could feel the anger welling up within me. Yes, I am more than this. I am so much more than poop and spit up and vomit and boogers!

And just when I was about the throw down the rag and shout at my kids to get off their lazy behinds, I felt the gentlest hug I ever could receive. It brought me to my knees. And I was reminded of some stories:

The story of a Caleb and Joshua who believed in victory despite the odds,

The story of a little boy name David who had courage to battle a giant,

The story of a faithful man named Daniel, whose testimony glorified God, and

The story of the Jewish girl Esther, who spoke up to save her people.

I slowly bowed my head, I was clearly in the presence of my King. He reminded me who I am. I am His child. I am loved. My child is Joshua. My child is Caleb. My child is David, and Daniel, and Esther. So am I.

Let them see Love in me. Let them see Christ in me. I am not raising a child; I am raising a testimony for My King. I am raising a generation that will believe. I am raising a generation that will bring the world to its knees, even if they can’t quite yet figure out where they should poop.

There is no place I would rather be than on the floor on my knees in the presence of The King. Even if my place right now, today, is cleaning feces off the ground. What an honor. With open arms I receive, with outstretched hands I sing.

Thank you for the cross, Lord. Thank you for your nail-pierced hands.

Thank you for your love, God, thank you for my precious little lambs.

…poop and all.

One day they will learn to go to the bathroom on the toilet. So much more importantly, one day their lives will glorify You. Let me take them to that place, let me model to them Your grace,

…with a closet full of bleach, and a hundred packs of disinfectant wipes, this task matters.

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