How to Be Content

Tons of Water

There’s something I love about taking my kids somewhere in the van. Something about driving a van full of children, all of whom are mine, makes me feel more than abundantly blessed. Four of the five people I love most in the world (the fifth is my husband, their daddy) all right there with me, and going somewhere together. How could I be more blessed?

The other day, we were going somewhere in the van, and I realized I needed to take some medicine. The only problem was, I didn’t have any water. Knowing that we often carry bottles of water with us, and hoping someone had a leftover one in the back somewhere, I called out, “Does anybody have some water I can have? I need to take some medicine.”

Bottle of Water“I do!” Lindsey responded. “I have tons of water.”

I stretched my hand back to receive the bottle from Ellie, who had received it from Lindsey. As I felt Ellie place the bottle in my hand, I brought it forward and saw…a third of a bottle.

“Tons” of water. A third of a bottle.

It was certainly enough to take my medicine, but that wasn’t the point anymore. What struck me as I looked at the couple inches of water in the bottom was how Lindsey saw it as plenty—“tons”. She offered what she had and saw it as abundant.

I bet that’s the same attitude with which the boy with the five loaves and two fishes offered his lunch to the disciples. And I’m absolutely certain that it’s how Jesus wants us to view the material blessings in our lives.

Too often, we look at what we have and see it as “not much”. Especially at Christmas, many people seem more likely to think about all the things they can’t buy that they wish they could, instead of rejoicing in the things they can buy. Do most of us really look at the material Christmas we are providing for our children and see it as “tons” of presents? Or do we more often see it as “adequate”, or even “insufficient”?

And what about the rest of the year? Do we look at our houses and cars and see them as blessings, or as “not as big/new as we wish they were”? Do we view our husband as a huge blessing from God, or do we mainly see his faults? Do we look at our children as blessings far greater than we deserve, or as problems to be dealt with? What about our material possessions? Are they “more than sufficient”, or are they “not as much as what our friends/neighbors have”?

I’m not suggesting merely a Pollyanna outlook that calls white, black and black, white. I’m not recommending being merely a “glass half full” person (though that is valuable). I’m urging all of us to realize that what we have is what God has given us, and that if it’s what He’s given us, it’s enough. I’m encouraging us to be people who recognize the truth that whatever God does is “enough”, even if it might look like only a third of a bottle (or less). I’m pointing out that we would have an incredible effect on a watching world by demonstrating our satisfaction with God’s provision. We’d show them how great He is by living our lives as if He is enough (which He is) and what He provides is enough (which it is).

Even difficult financial times can become the means by which we demonstrate our love for God and our trust in His provision, even when we don’t see how it can possibly be enough. Will we trust Him only when we see where “enough” money is coming from? Or will we find what He provides to be sufficient, maybe not for our comfort, but to accomplish His purposes?

No matter how much money we have, it could all be gone in an instant. The sufficiency of our material blessings rests not in how many we have, but in the fact that God has said they are enough. Let’s be grateful for what we have, no matter how much that is. Let’s see it not as “not enough”, “insufficient”, or “less than”. Let’s be like Lindsey, and see God’s provision as “tons”.

John 1:16—From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.

In Everything?

Three more days, and Thanksgiving will be here. We’ll watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, eat too much Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends (sweet potatoes, here I come!), and lie around for the rest of the day, too stuffed to move. Somewhere during the day, my husband and I will sit our kids down and have them record what they’re thankful for, as we do every year. Then we’ll pray, and they’ll thank God for things like home and family, friends, their favorite stuffed animals, and our cat.

I’ll tell them that of all the things on earth, I’m most thankful for them and their daddy/my husband. I’ll mention that I appreciate our home, the fact that we have enough food—in fact, more than enough—and all the material blessings God has given us. Those are the things that come immediately to mind when I stop to think about what I’m thankful for.

This year, I’m thankful for other things, too, even though they certainly don’t come to mind first. That’s because these things are all tied to pain in my life, and since I don’t like to dwell on the pain, I don’t usually think about the gratitude I could feel in the midst of those situations, either. But God tells me to be thankful in all circumstances. So this year, I will make it a point to be thankful for the following:

  • the strength God has built into my life by helping me deal with broken and twisted relationships. If it had been up to me, I would have chosen for certain experiences to be much different. But that’s not how life went. I can either focus on the painful parts, or I can choose to be thankful that God has made me stronger by teaching me to thrive despite it all.
  • the friends I’ve made in the course of taking my son to his therapy appointments. Kenny has Asperger’s Disorder, and though he’s doing great, he still has some skills to learn. I would not have chosen Asperger’s for him, but I can choose to be grateful for all the friends we’ve made along the journey.
  • the many times I’ve had to rest during this pregnancy. It would be easy for me to be resentful of or ungrateful for those times and to see them as burdens, not as opportunities. But God has given me the gift of allowing me to stop and rest more than I would have otherwise if I had felt better. Instead of bemoaning the fact that I’m not as high-energy as usual, I choose to appreciate the gift of rest time.

I’m not going to deny any of my painful experiences or pretend that they don’t exist. I don’t suggest you do that either. But I do encourage you to look beyond the things you don’t like to the blessings they have brought about. The circumstance itself may be undesirable and painful, but even in the midst of pain, there is always something good. Don’t let yourself get so focused on the pain that you forget to look for the blessings. They’re in there. Somewhere in the midst of the chaos or hurt, they’re very real and present. So find something to thank God for despite what might be the worst pain of your life. Being thankful isn’t going to make all your pain go away. But that blessing that you haven’t thought about? It’s a diamond in the midst of all the coal. Don’t get so focused on the coal that you forget to look for the diamond. You’ll still be stuck with the coal anyway. But at least you’ll have the diamond too.

1 Thessalonians 5:18—Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

“Hempo” Blanket

Two or three years ago, Lindsey received a hippo blanket for her birthday. It was made by friends of ours and is hot pink, yellow, and fuzzy, with colorful, happy-looking hippos all over it. At the time, Lindsey couldn’t say “hippo”, so she came up with “hempo”.

She still loves that thing and often takes it with her when she thinks she might be cold somewhere. The other day, she gathered it up as she prepared to get out of our minivan. The only thing was, she was also holding everything else she’d brought along with her, which made quite a load. “Kenny, help your sister with her stuff,” I directed.

Right behind her, Kenny reached for the blanket, which was trailing on the floor. As soon as Lindsey felt him pull on it, she glanced back at him to see what he was doing. Right about the time I was saying, “He’s just trying to help you,” Lindsey realized the same thing on her own and released the blanket, turning her attention away from him and back to getting out.

It made all the difference in the world that she knew he was trying to help her. Otherwise, you can imagine how the scenario would have gone—about as well as when God tries to take something from us and we don’t like it.

There are times in every believer’s life when God must take something away from us as part of His plan. We feel His tug on our treasure, and we immediately try to figure out what God is doing. Sometimes, it’s obvious, but oftentimes, we can’t tell. And it’s during those times that it matters so much whether we think He is trying to steal something that is rightfully ours or to remove it for our benefit.

Some things in life, we’re just not willing to give up. We feel as if we’re entitled to them. We want to maintain control over them, and if God tries to take them away—or if He allows them to be taken away—we react as if He has stolen from us. The only problem with that reasoning is that ultimately, nothing belongs to us. It’s all His. We don’t have the right to hang onto anything He takes or allows to be taken from us because it’s all His in the first place.

The job we lost? It was never ours to hang on to. Our health? Nope, not that either. Our kids? Even they don’t truly belong to us. They are and always have been His.

Most of the time, however, the things God requires us to give up are not the truly precious things—family, for instance. Usually it’s something much smaller, such as a portion of our free time or a peaceful, uninterrupted night’s sleep. Frequently, God takes these things from us because He wants to replace them with an opportunity to serve other people such as our children. But too often, instead of willingly accepting the change in plans, we resent the fact that mothering is often inconvenient.

What do you resent? Many times, resentment is an indicator that something we believe we have a right to has been taken from us. We resent the fact that our husband wants to watch the ballgame instead of help us with the children because we believe we have a right to his help, and that “right” has been stolen from us. Or we begrudge the fact that we have to get up in the middle of the night to tend to our coughing child because we thought we had a right to a good night’s sleep.

What difference might it make in your life and in mine if we were to lay down our rights and realize that we don’t have a right to anything? Instead of focusing on our “rights” that haven’t been fulfilled, what if we started meditating on all the things we do have that we don’t have a right to because they are the result of God’s grace?

Why not make a list of those things? Write down all the things you do have that you don’t have a right to—in other words, all the blessings you now enjoy that were gifts from God based on His love for you and not on what you had a “right” to.

It’s humbling, isn’t it? Realizing that God owes us nothing yet still chooses to bless us anyway—it’s incredible. That He would give us anything at all should amaze us. Yet He pours out His love on us, and as part of His love, He blesses us with gifts.

Let’s not spend more time resenting what we don’t have than rejoicing in what we do have. After all, if God gave us what we deserved on our own merits, we’d all be in hell. Literally. So instead of virtually accusing Him of stealing from us—or at least of doing the wrong thing—let’s thank Him for what He has done that’s truly unfair: lavishing us with blessings we don’t deserve.

1 Corinthians 4:7—What do you have that you did not receive?

James 1:17—Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

Contented

As I sit here writing, my children are all with my husband in the front part of the house. He has promised to keep them up there so I can have time to write. Not only that, but he’s making dinner. I can hear everyone talking, and for the moment, at least, their voices are peaceful. I’m at home, with the people I love most in all the world, and everyone’s getting along. I am content.

At the same time that this is true, it’s also true that my desk is a mess. There are piles of papers and other objects all over it (including, interestingly enough, one yellow rubber glove, a packet of cat treats, a set of cards for Lindsey’s Hooked on Phonics curriculum, and a cotton-ball-and-paper-plate sheep that she made last year in preschool. Behind me, the playroom is a mess. Yet I am content.

You see, we can choose which set of circumstances to focus on. We can dwell on all the things that are wrong, or we can look at the many things that are going right. At any given moment in our lives, some things will be going other than the way we would wish, and others will be going just as we want them to. Our contentment depends on which set of circumstances we base our feelings on.

True, there are some circumstances that could pretty easily destroy contentment for almost anyone. Tragic things happen in the world, and there’s no guarantee that none of them will ever happen to us. But for the most part—the great majority of the time—we can choose to be contented or not, depending on what we concentrate on.

Does that mean we just sweep everything negative under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen or doesn’t bother us? No. It means that sometimes, we simply choose not to think about something if thinking about it won’t help. When there’s an issue that needs to be dealt with, fine. Let’s think about it so that we can determine the right response. But when thinking about something results only in bitterness or discontentment, and there’s nothing to do about it anyway, let it go. Just let it go. Why allow it to take up anymore of your mental and emotional energy and rob you of contentment?

I could sit here and complain about the house being a mess. I could gripe about how I’m tired of having to tell the children over and over to clean up. But would that help? No. And not only would it be distinctly unhelpful, but it might cause me to miss the delightful sounds of their happy voices as they play together and interact with their daddy.

This is part of training our minds to think the way God wants us to think. We need to make it a habit to concentrate on the good things instead of the bad. We need to spend more time contemplating the blessings He’s given us than grumbling about the tiny little bumps in our smooth road.

I know that I don’t like to hear my kids complain. I’d rather hear about all the good things that happened during their day, or all the things they liked. I bet God feels the same way. I bet He’d much rather hear me thank Him for His blessings and then enjoy them than sit here with a sour attitude simply because everything’s not what I consider perfect.

How are you doing in this area? Which—the good or the bad—do you spend more time focusing on? Find something right now that’s going right, then stop and thank God for it. And watch what happens to your contentment when you do.

Philippians 4:8—Finally, [sisters], whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

No Whiny Voice

You know how sometimes, you do something for your kids you think they’ll appreciate, only to find out later that it was a waste of money?

Such was the case last week when I let the kids talk me into buying applesauce already flavored with cinnamon. It wasn’t any more expensive than the regular stuff, and the kids always put cinnamon in their applesauce anyway, so I was more than willing to earn brownie points with them by fulfilling their request.

Two-year-old Jessica, however, was not impressed. When I served applesauce one evening as a complement to our meal, she said she wanted cinnamon in hers. “There’s already cinnamon in it,” I said. “That’s why it’s brown.”

Jessica peered suspiciously at the bowl. “But I want to put cinnamon in it,” she whined.

“You mean you want some regular applesauce so you can add cinnamon to it yourself?” I clarified.

“Yeahhhh,” she pouted.

“Maybe if you asked me nicely, I would help you,” I said.

“Please?” she said politely.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be glad to help you now. But when you use your whiny voice, that makes me not want to help you.”

“Yeah,” Jessica said loudly. “And God don’t like a whiny voice!”

Isn’t that the truth? God don’t like a whiny voice. In fact, He tells us pretty clearly in Scripture through the Apostle Paul’s writings that we are to do everything without complaining or arguing. I’m pretty sure whining would fit into that category of prohibited ways to do things.

But most of us whine. A lot. Maybe not every day (though maybe so!), but far too often. We ignore the flat-out prohibition in that verse and figure that if we don’t complain too often, that ought to be good enough.

But God says it isn’t. His standard is no complaining. Period.

Believe me, I know it’s hard not to complain sometimes. Bad things, or even just plain irritating things, happen, and it’s tempting to complain. After all, what are we supposed to do, keep our feelings inside? Don’t we have a right to talk about how we feel?

The answers might surprise you. No, we’re not supposed to just bottle up our feelings. And yes, we have a right to talk about how we feel. But there are right ways and wrong ways to do those things, and complaining is a wrong way. When expressing ourselves won’t build anybody up and won’t help the situation, we should keep silent. But we can—and should—take those feelings to God. He will help us deal with them and know what to do next. Even when our emotions are unrighteous—bitterness and malice, for example—God invites us to bring them before Him. The Bible tells us that He desires truth in our inward parts, and that there, He will teach us wisdom.

Is complaining to God okay, then? Well…no. Complaining isn’t okay, period. Complaining is like saying what God’s allowed into our life isn’t acceptable to us. I know some circumstances are annoying, difficult, or even tragic. We’re not commanded to love those circumstances, but we are commanded not to complain. That’s because when we complain, we’re rebelling against what His will for our life is (whether it’s something He’s caused, or something He’s allowed), and when we’re doing that, we’re not in right relationship with Him. We need to learn to see our circumstances as God sees them—tools for shaping us into the person He wants us to be.

How does that work? I don’t entirely know. I only know that when I’m honest before God about my desire to complain, He changes my heart. He may not make my circumstances go away, but He always changes my ability to deal with them.

The next time we’re tempted to complain, let’s take our emotions to God and ask Him to renew our heart and our perspective. Let’s beseech Him for His grace in dealing with our circumstances. And let’s resist the temptation to complain. Complaining seems to offer a satisfying way to deal with our stress, but it doesn’t. True relief comes from God alone. Following His ways in dealing with life will bring far superior and far longer-lasting relief than complaining ever will.

Philippians 2:14—“Do everything without complaining or arguing.”

Isaiah 1:18—”Come now, let us reason together,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”

Shortcut

It’s amazing how much you can learn by playing Chutes and Ladders with a preschooler.

Presumably, you can already recognize your numbers, and you probably know how to count, too. So there’s not much for you to learn there, even though it’s what your preschooler’s supposed to be learning. But there are plenty of other things you can learn, which you may never have thought of.

For example, did you know that you can learn patience? Lots and lots of patience, in fact. The way the game works, you spin the spinner and move your little person forward the appropriate number of spaces. You start out on the bottom row, going from left to right. When you get to the end, you go up one row and start moving back toward the left. Each square is numbered so you can remember which direction you’re supposed to be going. Your kids will probably get the idea that they’re supposed to move from one side of the board to the other. But they’ll forget which direction they were going, and if they don’t know their numbers, or if they forget to look at the numbers, they’ll take off in the wrong direction about half the time. You’ll have ample opportunities to say patiently, “No, this way, sweetheart.”

You can even learn about shortcuts and downfalls. See, if your move lands you on a square at the bottom of a ladder, you get to climb all the way to the top, bypassing the lower-numbered squares on the way. On the other hand, if you land at the top of a chute, you have to slide all the way down to a lower-numbered square—sometimes much lower. If you’re so inclined, you can teach your kids about the shortcuts and downfalls of life, and how sometimes you can climb way, way up or slide even farther down.

I’ve played this game a million times before, sometimes playing seven hundred games in a single day. But until the other day, I never thought about one particular aspect of the game.

When my kids were even younger, we didn’t always enforce the rules all that strictly. As long as they were playing by the general idea of advancing toward the last square, we figured that was good enough. Sometimes, we even let them take any path on the board they wanted, or take an extra turn. But recently, we’ve started to require that they play by the rules. So when Lindsey prematurely paused her token at the bottom of a ladder that would have led immediately to the end, I said, “Lindsey, you have to go two more squares.”

She obeyed willingly, finishing out the number she’d spun. But I knew she’d been tempted to take the unauthorized shortcut. And I realized that we as moms often face the same temptation.

I’m not talking about the temptation to hastily end a game that’s gotten too long or too boring. I’m talking about life, where it’s all too easy to use illegitimate shortcuts or unauthorized means to get to where or what we want.

Our kids are hungry and fussing, and we need a few moments’ peace to get our grocery shopping done, so we let them eat a grape or two from the produce aisle.

We really don’t feel like going to work on a particularly beautiful day, so we call in sick and then head for the lake instead of the office.

Or we resent the fact that our friends all have nicer homes than we do, so we buy an expensive home we can’t really afford.

Most of us hate to wait. We want what we want, and we want it now. As in, right now, not later, not some other day or month or year. Usually, we feel like we deserve what we want (as if it were possible to “deserve” any of God’s blessings). We feel entitled to it. And we resent having to wait. So if God doesn’t come through with what we desire, we go get it ourselves.

I can’t think of a better way to wreck our lives and end up with a bunch of what’s not good for us and what we don’t even really want than to take illicit shortcuts to get it. You see, if God requires that we wait, or that we not have a particular item at all, He has a reason. Making an end run around His reason and grabbing the goal for ourselves isn’t going to bring what we hoped it would. Oh, it may bring the object we wanted, but it isn’t going to bring the spiritual blessing we would have had by waiting, or by not obtaining the object at all.

Which is more important? The material blessing or the spiritual? We claim that the spiritual blessing is more important, that obedience to God is our highest value. But sometimes, we show by our actions that other things are more important.

What a witness to a watching world that would be if we showed them that we don’t have to have certain things or circumstances in life in order to be happy—that we’re fully content with God Himself being our portion, and consider ourselves abundantly blessed to enjoy what He’s given us, without having to try to grasp more.

We’d not only bless the world by showing them how satisfying our God can be; we’d also bless God’s heart by acknowledging that He’s enough for us. After all, what else do we really need?

Psalm 73:25-26 – Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Even if I Didn’t Notice

The morning had been productive. I had gotten myself and the kids up and dressed, made sure everybody had breakfast, and gotten us out the door to the YMCA.

I’d also gotten in a good workout. Treadmill? Check. Lifting weights? Check. Drinking enough water? Check.

Now, we were home eating lunch. Ellie, six years old at the time, wanted to tell me about her morning. “At the Y,” she said, “there was this boy, and I kept having to tell the teacher that he was bothering me.”

From the chair next to her sister, three-year-old Lindsey piped up helpfully and earnestly, “Yeah, and I had to keep saving you.” She nodded for emphasis.

I was proud of Lindsey’s loving initiative toward her sister. Ellie didn’t seem as impressed as I was, but at least, she was polite. “Thank you for saving me,” Ellie said, “even if I didn’t notice.”

Ouch.

Ellie’s words made me cringe inside, not only because I was afraid Lindsey’s feelings would be hurt, but because I realized something.

You and I do the same thing to God on a regular basis.

We benefit from His help every single moment of our lives, yet most of the time, we’re oblivious to the fact that if it weren’t for Him, we wouldn’t even take our next breath. We don’t pay particular attention to God’s assistance unless it comes in the form of something miraculous or massive. When it’s “everyday” assistance, we pay it no more attention than we pay to the people who provide the electricity to our homes.

We simply expect His assistance to be there.

I wonder how God feels when we continually fail to acknowledge His interventions and provisions for us.

Even more than that, I wonder why He continues to provide for us when we take Him so much for granted.

On one hand, I know that He continues to sustain us because He loves us and because He has promised that He will. But from an earthly perspective, I simply can’t understand His ways.

If Ellie never noticed Lindsey’s assistance and rarely thanked her, or only mumbled obligatory, meaningless thank-you’s right before she took advantage of what Lindsey had done for her, I’m certain Lindsey would be tempted to stop helping. I know I would, and I’m an adult.

But despite the fact that we rarely give God the appreciation He deserves, He continues to lavish His love and care upon us.

That is truly amazing.

How God must long to see His children become aware of all He does for them and to hear them rise up in gratitude.

This week, let’s ask God to open the eyes of our hearts to see everything He does for us. As we move through our days, may He cause us to realize how much we need Him every moment.

When He has been gracious to do that, may we realize how incredibly much He has done for us already and is continuing to do every second. May we repent of every single time we failed to recognize His hand or took it for granted.

And just as our hearts are glad when our children express their thanks to us, may we bring joy the Father’s heart by pouring out our gratitude from hearts that overflow.

John 1:16—From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.

Hebrews 13:15—Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that confess his name.

Whatever I Get

In our dining room, we have our regular table, which is wooden and has six chairs. We also have a smaller, plastic table made for kids, with four little, yellow plastic chairs. One particular evening, I allowed the kids to eat their supper at the little table.

At one point, Lindsey got up and went to the kitchen. She brought a bottle of BBQ sauce and a bottle of ketchup back to the table. “You already have ranch dressing,” I said, taking the two bottles and putting them back in the fridge.

Lindsey began to cry. “But I want ketchup,” she said.

“All right,” I decided. “You may get the ketchup out, but only the ketchup.”

Lindsey stopped crying and walked out to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and stood looking at the bottles and jars on the shelves.

“I changed my mind. Not ketchup,” she said. “Whatever I get, you say ‘yes’.”

We want the same thing from God, don’t we? We want His ‘yes’ to anything we come up with. We want to be able to deliver a request and know that He will rubber-stamp it. Not content with what He’s offered, we want something more, and we want to be the ones who determine what that something more will be.

Consider how you react when God doesn’t grant your requests. Do you become angry? Irritated? Resentful? Do you trust that God, in His superior wisdom, is denying your request to further His own good purposes, or do you secretly feel you’ve been cheated out of something good?

I think we’ve all been there.

We’ve all asked God for things we fully expected to receive, or perhaps desperately hoped we would receive. Then, when we didn’t get them, we felt angry or betrayed.

These emotions reveal our belief that God did not do what He was supposed to do regarding us.

But God is not some genie who is obligated to grant all of our requests as long as we put them in the right format. He’s not some passive celestial figure who exists for the sole purpose of granting us things we can’t secure for ourselves.

No, He is the Almighty Creator of the universe, and He knows far better than we do which requests can be granted, and which must be denied. You may be certain of this: God doesn’t deny requests lightly. If He denies what you’ve asked for, He has a reason why it must be so.

It’s okay to be disappointed that we didn’t get what we’ve asked for. It’s even okay to grieve over His denial of our requests at times. But to get an idea in our minds of what God should do, and then become angry when He doesn’t perform?

That’s sin.

“Will not the judge of all the earth do right?” Abraham asks as He is pleading with God to spare Sodom and Gomorrah.

And indeed, He will.

We could learn a lot from Abraham’s prayer. His prayer was no monologue delivered heavenward, a list of demands couched as requests. He approached God humbly, making his request, clearly acknowledging that God could grant it but didn’t have to.

How do you and I approach God? Do we come to Him pridefully, expecting that He should say yes to whatever we ask? Or do we come respectfully, making our desires known but being willing to accept any answer from His hand?

May our attitudes be not “whatever I ask, You say yes” but “whatever You grant, I say yes”.

James 4:10—Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up.

Thank You

Housework is definitely not my favorite part of motherhood. I find it frustrating for two reasons: first, there is always something to be done. The job is never-ending; and second, when I do manage to carve a precious hour out of my day to accomplish something, it gets undone by my children in five minutes.

God has shown me, however, that whether or not housework is a burden to me all depends on my attitude. If I choose to focus on how much it inconveniences me, my attitude won’t be very joyful. If, however, I consider the significance of the fact that I have housework to do, I can be grateful instead of grumpy.

I pray that this poem will encourage you and help transform your perspective on housework. You see, having housework to do is a blessing in disguise.

Thank You

Dear Lord, Your Word says ‘don’t complain’; I know that this is true.
But when it comes to housework or chores I don’t want to do,
It’s easy to resent the things to which I must give time.
“Taking up my cross” isn’t always what I have in mind.

But Lord, you have been teaching me to see the way You see,
To realize that household tasks are blessings You gave me.
And so, I choose to give You thanks for all I have to do,
Knowing that the privilege of doing it’s from You.

Thank You for the laundry dropped in piles upon the floor,
And for the dirty pairs of shoes left right inside the door.
Thank You for the shirts and socks and coats flung everywhere,
For OxiClean and Shout and Tide—it means we’ve clothes to wear.

Dirty cups and dishes clutter countertops and sink.
I sure hope no one’s hungry; I hope no one needs a drink.
If it could all just wash itself, it would be such a treat.
But thanks for dirty dishes, too—it means we’ve food to eat.

Thank You for the sink and floor and toilet I must scrub.
Thank You for the shower; thank You for the tub.
Thank You for the mirror and wet towels I know are coming.
Thank You for this bathroom; it means we’ve indoor plumbing.

The messiness of games and toys and books covers our floors.
And did I mention dolls and blocks and drawings taped on doors?
Sometimes, I think I’ve seen my fill of Hot Wheels, Legos, bibs.
But thank You for this chaos—it means I have four kids.

My front yard isn’t landscaped. It isn’t even mown.
It’s filled with plastic toys and shovels—things that aren’t my own.
It sure won’t win “Yard of the Month”, but I don’t need that anyway.
I thank You for my lived-in yard—my kids have space to play.

There’s so much work I must get done. I do it all, and then
An hour later, it’s a mess, and must be done again.
But Lord, I thank You for the time that I can’t call my own,
The time spent serving others. It means I have a home.

Oh, forgive me, Lord, for asking You for blessings great and small,
Then complaining when I have to clean or take care of them all.
Oh, Lord, the very fact that I always have much to do
Is not a cause for bitterness, but for giving thanks to You.

I see now that every chore I have to do reflects Your grace
In blessing me with earthly things until I see Your face.
May I do my work with gratitude for the opportunity,
Seeing in it a chance for joy, and not mere drudgery.

My heart responds in thankfulness for all that You have given.
I’ll serve You by taking care of it ’til You call me to heaven.
And may I serve in such a way that the world sees Your dear Son
In my heart and hands and words and work, that to Him, they be won.

Complaining

I’m not really into cooking. I don’t hate it; I just don’t much look forward to it. The reason, however, has nothing to do with the cooking itself. I actually kind of enjoy the process of preparing and creating something. It’s just that it’s too frustrating to try to spend an hour or two cooking when the kids are guaranteed to need me repeatedly during that time.

Every now and then, however, I do spend more than ten or fifteen minutes preparing dinner. Sometimes, I get the urge to make something really nice.

Once, I spent time making a new chicken dish and mashed potatoes. Everyone in my family likes chicken, so I thought this would be a sure hit. I even let the kids have straws in their drinks, which is a special treat in our family. I thought the stage was set for success.

I was wrong.

One of my children kept talking about what she would and wouldn’t eat—even after being told by Daddy to stop talking about it. Another child kept trying bites of the meal and then picking them out of her mouth when she found them unsatisfactory. One child in particular was chewing on his straw, as he likes to do. I didn’t mind, but apparently my husband did, because he said, “That’s why I don’t like giving them a straw.”

You can imagine how I felt at that point. I was frustrated and irritated—really irritated—by their ungratefulness. I was also discouraged. After all, I had gone to a lot of trouble to do something nice for them.

I wonder how God feels when we do the same thing to Him.

Every single day and moment of our lives, God puts an awesome amount of effort and creativity into preparing wonderful things for us. Sometimes, we receive His gifts well, but often, we complain.

We are a lot like the ancient Israelites, whom we usually condemn for their on-again, off-again attitudes. First, the Israelites complained (understandably so) about their slavery in Egypt. So God rescued them. Then, the complained about being hungry, saying, “Well at least in Egypt, we had food.” So God gave them manna. After awhile, they complained about that. So God gave them quail. Then they got sick of that.

They were never satisfied.

Friend, are you satisfied with what God provides for you? When He gives you a gift, do you receive it gratefully? Or do you complain, because you don’t like it…or you want to choose what parts of it you will and will not accept…or it isn’t the way you would have done it?

It’s true that sometimes, God allows things into our lives for which we’re not grateful. Sometimes, He allows tragedy and suffering. He doesn’t expect us to respond with jubilant enthusiasm to such things, and those aren’t the kinds of things I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about the things He gives us that are in no way tragedies, but to which we sometimes respond as if they are.

What if God gives you a house with fewer bedrooms than you think you need? Could you be grateful for it, or would you complain?

What if He provides not a new car, but one that’s ten years old and has a hundred thousand miles? Would you thank Him?

What if…He gives you children and a husband who aren’t perfect? What then? Will you spend more time celebrating His gifts, or complaining that they aren’t perfect?

What gifts in your life have you failed to appreciate? What have you complained about when you should have been grateful? Spend some time in prayer today. Ask God to forgive you for your attitude toward His blessings. Seek His help in changing your heart to be a grateful one. And rejoice! You have been blessed.

James 1:17—Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.