Serving

I never understood the 1950s images of happy housewives with sparkling kitchens and fresh pots of coffee. They were traumatizing, a sense of oppression. While rocking out to girl power music, and the freedom of our "culture" there were promises of never being barefoot in the kitchen. Now this little house with the feeling of home deep in its bones has opened this feeling of understanding that I never knew was there.

A sense of completion.

Of pride.

Joy, in life.

Conversations over coffee with girlfriends about how our husbands mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, did so much and our feelings of inadequacy, spur a thought of 'how'. How was so much accomplished in such few hours of a day? Skinned knees kissed, babies feed, diapers changed, floors clean, beds made, and dinner cooked, laundry finished, company entertained, all done in 24 hour. How exhausting, how demanding!

What I never realized is these things weren't done because of obligation, out of a feeling of demand, but should be done out of a feeling of love. Love for their family, love for their husband, love for what God has chosen to bless them with.

Love for life.

It dawned on me that some of these women served, gave till they crumbled into bed every night because they wanted to. James 3:17 calls us to be easy to please, to do good, and help others.  Serving is something my generation seems to know very little about. There is this feeling of entitlement, get what you can and do as little as you can to get it but that's not what life is suppose to be about. We are willing to serve those that we see are lower then our selves. Why not our families? Why not serve every person out there no matter what their economic status is, or where they are from, or how they are related to us. Instead we see those that are a part of our family as people that are to give us something. Give us happiness, joy, a clean room, financial stability, ect. We expect our families to serve us, but do we always serve them? Do we look at serving as a joy?

If the choice is crumbling in to bed at night accomplished, working hard, and stay on my feet all day with a feeling of blessing my family, or waiting for my family to bless me, doing what I want all day, and only thinking of my comfort and time, I chose to crumble.