Why Our Homemaking Will Never Be Good Enough

homemaking

Last winter, there were days I so hated living in my house. My house with it’s doors that froze shut during bitter temperatures, and windows that leaked with the melting snow, and my ugly kitchen floor staring at me day after day. But my husband would come home and get out his guitar and sit on that ugly floor and play and sing and worship. And my 2-year-old daughter would dance, and squeal, and spin around in circles. And I would sing and rock and sway. And in those moments, on the kitchen floor, the presence of God would fill our house so thick, it was other-worldly. It was Love come down with us. It was the Spirit of God filling our hearts and filling our house with Himself. And those were the moments that Heaven broke through.

And that kitchen floor became sacred ground.

Not because it was meticulously cleaned. Not because it was the latest design. But because we had sunk to our knees. And we found Him there. And behold, God was in that place and I did not know it.

And this is what makes it home. It’s not the home I’m making, it’s the home He is making in me. For Jesus said, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” (John 14:23)

So, come Lord Jesus, come. Come and make your home in me, today and all eternity.

Click here to finish reading this post I wrote on author Emily Wierenga’s site. This post was originally published as part of Emily’s new Making It Home book launch. And it also is part of our Free-Spirit Homemaker Series:How To Maintain Your Home, Without Losing Your Soul. If you missed the last post, read it here “What Is The Purpose Of Homemaking?”

She’s Longing For A Child This Christmas

This goes out to every woman whose heart aches to be a mother, but finds herself still in waiting. May these words soothe your soul if you are in this place, or otherwise break your heart for those who are. This guest post was originally published on MomLife Now by a beautiful writer named Sasha and I am honored to share it with you:

She’s Longing For A Child This Christmas

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Christmas can be the most joyous time of year. The pitter patter of little feet running out on Christmas morning. The squeals and shouts, the laughter and excitement. . .

Not everyone will feel such joy. For many this day is a sharp wound. Piercing deep in the mother who has yet to hear herself called by this name. She who has tried and tried again, only to see another negative stick, another baby lost in the womb. The adoption at a standstill–again.

To you, dear momma, I have been thinking about you. My heart unable to push you to the back of my mind. With every visit to Santa’s lap I have ached for you. I felt the hot tears fall onto my pillow last night, brushing your searing pain. The emptiness which tries to engulf you.

But what good are my tears to you? I tried to make them worth something. A prayer.

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God of the childless mother,

She may not have a little one who calls her “momma” just yet, but she is a mother still. Your definition of the word starts with the heart, and hers, tenderly longing, is tenderly felt by you.

I see her as she smiles lovingly on my own child, helping him pick up his cheerios just spilled across the floor. I see her as she acknowledges my shy little girl, telling her just how beautiful she looks this morning. What an incredible mommy she will be. I feel such joy for the soul who will be so blessed as to call her such.

Today though, her own soul, it’s so wounded. So desperate.

Meet her at her desperation. Give her the patience–the miraculous patience–she needs.

I see so many “mothers.” Mothers who leave their children, who neglect them, beat them, shame them. They keep on having more babies. Babies who will live through hurt and suffering. Then, I see her. She who would love her child more than life itself. God, why is she the one having difficulty? She who deserves so much to be a mother! If I struggle with this question then I know she does too. I know her hope fades thin.

Revive her hope. Hope for a day when she will find herself face to face with the child you have destined for her. Mothers come in all different shapes and sizes. Show her the path to take.

When all seems hopeless, bring your hope. When all falls dark, shine your light. When life slaps much too hard, bring your arms of comfort. Hold her God. For although a mother is her desire, your daughter she is first.

Christmas day, which could bring such pain to her tender heart. May it be a day of hope, of sweet longing for the future. A reminder that one day she too will hear the pitter patter of little feet–feet running straight to her.

Hold her tight this Christmas. She needs you.

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“The eternal God is your refuge, and his everlasting arms are under you.” ~Deuteronomy 33:27


Sasha is a wife and mom of two who loves to open up about the realities of motherhood at her blog, MomLife Now. For more from Sasha, you can also follow her on Facebook.