Survival, Holy?

A question was posed to us (the congregation) at church, yesterday.  Actually two questions.

1)  What gets you out of bed in the morning?
2)  What is your mission or goal in life?

There were a bunch of holy answers.  After all, we were in church.  And people try hard to be, act, and talk "holy".

"Jesus gets me out of bed"

Oh that's nice.  You must be special to have Jesus personally get you up every day.

There were a few funny answers. 

"Bacon"

That's a little more realistic.

And then some honest answers.

"My job - so I can survive"

Yes.  That makes sense.

But what about us moms.  Us, who stay home.  Every liver-chewing, nightmarish day.  What about us?

Jesus getting me up sounds beyond perfect.  And lovely.  Gentle.  And soft.

Bacon would be too good to be true.  Somebody cooking me bacon every morning.  The smell - wafting to my ever-filled booger nose.  Fatty fat fat dripping.  Crunchy crumbs.  Oh, the pleasure.

Even a job to go to.  A reason to take a shower and brush my hair.  A reason to change my underwear.  The feeling of accomplishing - something . . . Getting a paycheck?  Just so it can go to bills.  A reason to buy new lipstick.

Do you know what gets me up in the morning? 

Ed.  (Shall I elaborate more?)(Yes, I think I will.)

Ed telling me (with arm motions) that he has peed "all yover" the bathroom.  Right after he had a panic attack because he couldn't get his pants off as fast as he wanted to.

Yup.  Is there anything more purposeful than to get wrenched out of bed to clean up a piss-ridden bathroom so the rest of the family can use the morning john?

No.  No there is not.

Which leads me to the next question. 
What is your mission or goal in life?

Survival.

Purely and simply - survival.  Survival for the family.

And nobody can understand that answer, unless they stay at home full time, with beautiful children.

And you know what gets me really excited?  When Big D doesn't like my answer of "survival".  He thinks it should be nothing short of inspirational and holy.  He thinks he is challenging me in a healthy way - to open my mind, and shoot for the stars.

I say, shit-balls to that.  (that's how excited I am)

You see, Big D - when you walk in the door, you see the exhaustion.  You see the mess.  And the lack of showers.  You hear the gravel in my voice.  The kids clamoring for fresh new attention that smiles at them.  But what you don't see is the inner-turmoil of my heart.  The true messyness of being at home.  The emotional struggles.  The lies and lies that he whispers.  The same old same old same old.  Fight and reproof, fight and correction.  You see none of this.  Because you don't live it.  And you will never understand the darkness of it all - unless you live it.

So don't sit there and criticize my mission for life.  Accept my "less-than-stellar" goal.  And know that that's the truth.

Jesus loves my disgusting life.  My dingy wallowing world.  And through the maddening fog, he showers me with a glimmer of hope, a moment of peace, and says "this is exactly where you're supposed to be". 

So I work on reading the millionth-time story with inflection, and answering the question with a gentle response.  And know that I am doing my absolute best at surviving.

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disclaimer

Even though I use the name "Big D",  I'm not only speaking to him.  But to all that feel the need to criticize, critique, judge, wrinkle your nose, offer unsightly statements meant to encourage, or blatantly think more highly of yourself/your mothering skills.

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disclaimer #2

I am not saying that my job is harder than those that work and have children.

Question of the day:

What is your mission or goal in life?