As I did my grocery shopping last week, I struggled to get through the pasta aisle. You see, it was jammed up with men carefully selecting products and checking their lists. Did you miss it? Yes, I said 'men'. I began to feel awkward as I maneuvered between carts. As I've been known to do many times in the past, I wandered off in my thoughts of days long gone. There was a day, many days, in fact... when I would go grocery shopping with my mother and not a man would be seen. It would have been odd to see men there. Now, at lunch time, in the local lunch spots, you couldn't find a table without men. Though I loved having lunch with my dad during the teen years when I worked at the same place as he, I felt very out of place at the local dine ins because I often was the only female in the room. Hard hats, work boots, dirty hands... (and wandering eyes) made it very uncomfortable. Nowadays, women and girls are out and about just as much as the guys. Now, I'm not saying if this is a good thing or a bad thing... I'm just reflecting on how special it was when we moms and kids had hours of time to play at home instead of in a car seat! The streets were filled with men going to and coming from work.... coming home to home cooked meals, relaxing with the family. They didn't go to the grocery store. Women did the grocery shopping.. and as a recall... it was often quite a social event :) Never failed, my mom would bump into someone she knew and stop in the aisle for a little chat. Guys were never there. Never. They were at work. It was a-given. Wonder if this shift in duties as repercussions? What are your thoughts?
I absolutely adore Elisabeth Elliot! What a godly legacy she has left us. It is refreshing to read her perspective on motherhood. We often take for granted to little blessings running around our home. A lonely home it would be without those little fingerprints on the fridge :)
"I am sadly concerned that thousands of mothers are so over-burdened that the actual demands of life from day to day consume all their time and strength. But of two evils, choose the lesser: which would you call the lesser--an unpolished stove or an untaught boy? Dirty windows, or a child whose confidence you have failed to gain? Cobwebs in the corner, or a son over whose soul a crust has formed, so strong that you despair of melting it with your hot tears and fervent prayers?
I have seen a woman who was absolutely ignorant of her children's habits of thought, who never felt that she could spare a half-hour to read or talk with them--I have seen this woman spend ten minutes in ironing a sheet, or forty minutes icing a cake for tea, because company was expected.
When the mother, a good orthodox Christian, shall appear before the Great White Throne to be judged for the "deeds done in the body," and to give her report of the master's treasures placed in her care, there will be questions and answers like these:
"Where are the boys and girls I gave thee?"
"Lord, I was busy keeping my house clean and in order, and my children wandered away."
"Where wert thou while thy sons and thy daughters were learning lessons of dishonesty, malice and impurity?"
"Lord, I was polishing furniture and making beautiful rugs."
"What hast thou to show for thy life's work?"
"The tidiest house, Lord, and the best starching and ironing in all our neighborhood!"
Oh these children, these children! The restless eager boys and girls whom we love more than our lives! Shall we devote our time and strength to that which perishes while the rich garden of our child's soul lies neglected, with foul weeds choking out all worthy and beautiful growths? Fleeting indeed, O mother, are the days of childhood, and speckless windows, snowy linen, the consciousness that everything about the house is faultlessly bright and clean will be poor comfort in that day wherein we shall discover that our poor boy's feet have chosen the path that shall take him out of the way to all eternity."
--Author Unknown
Elisabeth's Elliot's thoughts on the Priorities of Motherhood
(Elisabeth Elliot shared the following essay written many years ago by an unknown mother in one of her newsletters. http://www.elisabethelliot.org.)
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