A Quiet Life
Last night I sat in a living room with three other women.
They’re all mothers and homeschoolers and Christ-followers, but those
descriptions are lacking. One is an extremely talented singer and songwriter
and musician. Another, a gifted wordsmith. The third, a counselor with wisdom
and biblical insight beyond her years. None earn an income outside of the home.
And we sat, discussing the pull of culture, sipping on La
Croix and passing around coffee cake. The pull of culture being the pull to
forsake our calling and duties to pursue things that will make us feel valued
and worthy, known and recognized. A life that is attractive. A life that
inspires envy. Even the choice to live a “quiet life” beckons to be documented
on Instagram. “Look, followers, as I do my small life with my children in my
home. See me. Affirm me. I have burdens. Praise me. Tell me I am good.” I feel
the tug.
One of those friends and I have been walking a journey this
year of learning to bake and challenging one another to bake difficult things.
Braided breads with lemon curd. Crusty baguettes. Chocolate chip sourdoughs. Flaky croissants. Gooey cinnamon rolls. Even
this endeavor seems countercultural at times. Choosing to allot hours in a
single day to watch bread rise? Choosing to dish out warm carbohydrates to your
children in a country where keto diet is king and thinness is the ultimate
good? My children and I pass around the rolling pin, laughing as the baby
crawls around on the floor, covered in flour. It is meaningful, even if no one
sees it, right? Even if I don’t do an Instagram live of our experience? I can feel
known and loved and have joy and joy to the fullest, even if I’m not the size I
was at 22 and even if I’m not “crushing it” in a side hustle?
Redefining value and worth and meaning has been a daily practice
for me ever since I turned in my resignation several years ago to stay home
with my first tiny baby. I remember bouncing anxiously around my two-bedroom
apartment, wishing I knew the perfect trick to get him to just. stop. screaming.
I would look at his bright red face and think, “sheesh. Who actually is the
authority here? You dictate everything!” and it hit me… this is biblical
authority. Forsaking your wants and needs. Laying down your life. Sacrificing
what culture says is worth pursuing. All for another.
So, I daily have to lay down my desire to pursue the pull of
culture. Because that’s what Jesus did and it’s what He called us to. We aren’t
promised anything less… but we are promised so much more.
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