Easier said than lived

I always feel awkward around well-dressed people.  If I know I am going to be interacting with this type of person, and I have time to prepare, I will try to actually put on makeup and change out of my cracker-covered clothes into something a little more presentable.

I had a doctor’s appointment this week (no kids allowed: an outing; a break!)  I actually took out the SAHM ponytail and wore my hair down, a feat typically reserved for (some) Sundays.  Frumpy clothes are great for scrubbing floors, but today I get to leave the house!  I need to look like I belong on the outside world!

As I drove to my appointment, my phone stopped working.  Sigh, I had hoped to not have to tell my husband that I dropped it in the bathtub a couple weeks ago.  But now, he’s going to inspect it, and he’s going to notice the grain of rice that got stuck inside it that night. (A drenched cell phone can indeed be restored by sitting in a bag of rice. At least it was restored for 2 weeks.)

I made it to my appointment on time, and I spoke pleasantly to those professional people who look at me like I am an alien.  (To be fair, in that world I probably am an alien- many people with PCOS have infertility problems- I doubt many have six children.)  My....... ahem.... alternative lifestyle is baffling and even offensive to some people.  And their bewilderment is sometimes baffling and offensive to me.

Judge me and I'll judge you back!

As I got home from the appointment, with my non-working rice-rattling cell phone, I noticed a coffee stain on my shirt.  Had that been there for the appointment too?  Sigh, who am I kidding?  I don’t belong out there! I am not one of you, you professional people of the world!  You go back to reading thick books and saving lives.  I’ll go back to sorting through the fall clothes.

Wouldn't it be nice, indeed, if I could comfort myself by mentally congratulating myself on my own superiority to “all that?”  Wouldn't it be nice, if I could believe that what I do on a daily basis is surely in God’s eyes more important, more beneficial to the church and the world, than what those nice-looking people do?

Wouldn’t it be nice (for the frumpy stay-at-home-mom) if coffee-stained shirts and ponytails really were objectively more God-pleasing than high heels and PHDs?

(Qualifier: In MY case, it is better to forgo the PHD.  But I do not think that qualifies me to judge all cases.)

I know what I do is important, and I know it matters especially to the six dear lives that matter most to me.  But today I notice another weakness in myself:  I notice how easy it is to forget all that, to become discontent with doing what is in front of me, and how easy it is to think I'd rather be doing what is in front of someone else.  And I notice how natural it is to try to soothe that discontentment by imagining my vocation is mysteriously way more important than everyone else's... so important, in fact, that I simply do not have time to fix my hair.

"Love one another," we are told, "and do what is in front of you."  My imperfect attempt at this looks nothing like anyone else's imperfect attempt.  Why does this surprise me?  God never told His children they should all be doing the same thing.  My daily bread tastes different, my daily grace is a different color. 

Father, who am I to judge someone else's servant?  Forgive me for looking to the left and right of me: I have not the wisdom to judge nor the right to covet.  As I return from the complicated outside world into my chaotic home, equip me again to do what is in front of me.  Thank you for daily bread that tastes like coffee, and the sweet breeze of fall, and the laughter of children.  Pour out exactly the grace and help we need in this house do love each other and do what is in front of us.

In the name of Jesus,

Amen