“It’s been nine days since I took a shower.”
The realization of my personal-hygiene fail hit me like a stray baseball to the face. When had I ever let it get this bad before? Assessing the damage in the mirror, I finally admitted the truth I had been ignoring.
“Dry shampoo can no longer fix this.”
It was time for an intervention. And by intervention…I mean hot water and a gallon of soap.
Opening my closet, I searched for something other than yoga pants to wear. With over half the children sick, the past few days had been a blur and it was time to do something to reclaim myself, but more importantly, to reclaim the fresh scent that use to accompany me everywhere I went. I missed that. My husband did too.
I’d love to say that this was the only time my personal hygiene has sacrificed itself on the altar of a motherhood, but Maury Povich would determine that to be a lie.
I have found myself, sometimes daily, asking questions like, “Niki, did you brush your teeth today?” I have thrown myself into the shower on early Sunday mornings only to notice I was fully clothed when I started to soap my sweatshirt.
Shaving my legs is no longer a right, it is a yearly privilege. Sitting down beside my husband to watch a movie a few months ago, he pulled my legs up into his lap. Placing his hand across my legs, I quickly informed him, “You may not want to do that. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had time to shave.”
Always patient and easy going, he responded kindly, “I’m sure it’s fine, babe.”
“Oh, wow. You weren’t joking.”
No. No, I wasn’t. Although, I wish I had been.
Parenting fourteen kids is no joke. Show me the mother of nine boys and I will show you an intercessor. Add five passionate female offspring to the mix – one whom informed me as a young child that she felt her spiritual gift was “dictatorship,” – and you can see why leg-shaving has become less and less of a priority.
In all of the to-do lists and never-ending laundry piles, hundreds of daily dishes and invisible boo-boos that need bandaged, I can so easily forget that what I am doing matters. I can forget that family is kingdom work.
Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek (crave, desire, pursue) First (chiefly, foremost) the Kingdom of God…”
This shouldn’t be a small part of a big life. This should BE our life’s aim – to see His Kingdom come and His will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
In our marriages. In our families. In our workplaces. In our communities.
Our pursuit of His kingdom should change the way we love our spouses, raise our children, and live out each and every day.
Because it’s no longer just “something we do.” It’s something we are called to.
And I wonder what would happen if we began to see motherhood the way Amy Carmichael saw the orphans of India?
What if we walked through our place of business like Hudson Taylor walked through China?
What if we saw our neighbor like Mother Theresa saw the leper?
What if we saw our every day, ordinary lives, through the lens of God’s extraordinary purposes? We saw moments at opportunities? Grocery Stores as mission fields? Family as Kingdom Work? How would this change the way we do life? How would this change the world?
I don’t have all the answers to those questions, but I am determined to find out.
I am determined to live my life on purpose.
Join me.
-Mama Bear