I recently took a low paying job outside the home for a few hours a week. It wasn’t in our plans but the arrangement benefits the whole family, works with my state in life (no babies or toddlers), and doesn’t interfere with school or household—not much anyway. The hiring manager made sure that I knew what I was getting myself into:
“It’s really boring. Like REALLY boring sometimes. I just want you to make sure you know that.”
I must have looked a little nonplussed as I silently worked through the idea that having a few hours to do nothing but ponder life might be a fly in the ointment of perfection. I simply said:
“This is not going to be a problem for me.”
My husband jokingly told me I was a liberated woman and asked how I felt. I replied that I didn’t feel much of anything except a level of satisfaction in knowing that I have the ability to take or leave a job that no provider could afford to work and few youngsters could afford to keep. I like people, I like new experiences, and I like the job, so it seemed fine.
“Should mothers work outside the home?” seems to me to be the wrong question. The discernment comes down more accurately to:
“Should mothers work outside the home right-now-at-this-moment?”
And…
“Does it increase the well-being and provision of her womanhood and household? Or diminish it?”
Also…
Do I have a choice? I know not all of you do, but this post is still for you. Stay with me.
The answer is clearly not one-size-fits-all, but generally speaking, it does list toward home. Women are not only missionaries to those in those in the home, but are designed to be enmeshed in the heart of it. It is under our care where our people learn how to love and to be loved. If we step outside of this great obligation (physically or mentally), we should be cognizant of the vacancy we leave and do our best to provide for it.
I’m grateful that I’ve been able to be at home for the mundane, but I have also collected some unique experiences from inside the domestic walls.
I’m an author…
Speaker…
Home educator…
I’m a certified doula…
Aromatherapist…
Personal trainer…
SoulCore leader…
Pietra fitness instructor…
I’ve coached sports, taught classes, had multiple small businesses, run an Etsy shop, sold hand sewn goods at local markets, shipped needle felted art to New Zealand, and attempted to start a Catholic greeting card line…
I wrote a book, designed a magazine, ran pro-life organizations, designed and managed websites, organized events…
But I didn’t do all these things at once. Nor did I do them all well.
When little projects and random dreams died (it’s a well populated grave site) they were put away (for a time or for always) to make room for the flourishing of the home. The unique gifts of each woman are a blessing to others when expressed, but it is not always the right time.
When I look back at the list of distractions and adventures that I’ve chosen over the years, I realize they are all an extension of my maternal gifts. I want to love people and help them heal. Funny though how some times of greatest activity outside the home have been when I’ve been running from my feelings of inadequacy within it. If I bless another soul, let it never again be at the expense of the ones with whom I have been entrusted.
“Am I a feminist now?” I jokingly texted in our family group chat. It is humorous because taking this job is so obviously one of the least liberating things I could do. Imagine trading my time with my family at home for a few dollars! Maybe it is a respite, a financial help, a distraction, a creative outlet, a way to stretch the legs for a moment, but it is not true freedom.
To serve is to reign! Our beloved JPII knew, likely because he was so close to the heart of the greatest woman. I not only believe his bold proclamation but the truth of it is molded into my very cells and womanly form. To be given care of the minds, bodies, and hearts of any living person is a marvelous endeavor.
This is the job description of every women, regardless of biological maternity status. We carry that obligation inherently, and with it, enormous dignity.
So now I go to a job for a few hours each week and get to see whether my training in loving my own people translates well to the general public. What kind of a person am I really? It has gone as I suspected it would: I do alright most of the time and sometimes I don’t. Some people like me, some don’t. On the whole, the experience has been fruitful and discernment is one day at a time.
Five Things I have learned from taking a job after 26 years at home:
1. MY CREATIVE DRIVE IS INTACT AND SUPERCHARGED.
The feminist canard that my talents will stagnate in the home has proven to be untrue. I’ve been in charge of the daily operations in my home for almost three decades and the desire to improve everything and build things stays with me when I walk out the door. I was that way before marriage but it’s a much bigger drive now… with deeper roots. I not only want to help make things and people around me better, but I have the confidence that, under the right conditions, I can. My capacity for error is also quite large (certainly bigger than it ever was) but that’s the risk that comes with stepping up, in or out of the home.
2. MY CONFIDENCE HAS GROWN.
This is a dramatic shift from my younger years when I was intimidated by everything. In spite of the fact that I tend to lack confidence, it seems that I’ve grown up a little. Not everyone I encounter is pleasant, not everyone is safe, but I am no longer easily shaken. The flip side of this is that I am impatient with systems that seem useless and people who are content with doing the least. I also want to fix things that it’s not my job description to fix. It’s been a good practice in humility and all the virtues.
3. THE WORLD IS LESS ATTRACTIVE.
I enjoy my job. I like people. But I’m always happy to go home. Gratitude for home grows and grows. Worldly FOMO (which can indeed strike hard in the long mothering years) seems to have died away. If I were less content and unsupported, a job might present some real temptations… but I am content.
4. I LIKE PEOPLE.
Perhaps this is a perk of lengthy maternity. Everyone was once a precious infant, and if they weren’t loved well then they should have been and they should be now. I can’t not have a maternal vision even for strangers. Big babies everywhere just needing to be loved. It’s not condescension, just a fierce primal response that God build into the DNA of every woman, the strength of which sometimes surprises me.
5. I’M AGING AND NOT SORRY ABOUT IT.
Most of my coworkers and bosses are younger than I am and my world is a bit different from theirs. I cannot hide the fact that I'm a total square. Homeschooling mom. I don't swear. I don't tell rude jokes. I couldn't name one Taylor Swift song. I was one way in my youth and now I’m another. I set my unredeemed life down and walked away… and I’m content where I am today; forgiven, healing, grateful, marching toward home.
6. GOD IS NOT SILENT IN THE WORLD.
One day on the job I met young man, a fighter, who was just passing through. The discussion turned from grappling and broken noses to marriage and parenting. He said he wants to be a dad. A good one. And he wants a healed home.
His parents were divorced and his mom would hook up with guys while he was in the room. He was raped. Sometimes she beat him. As I listened to his story, I prayed to the Holy Spirit for the right words because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what to do with my face. Frankly, I didn’t even know if what he was saying was true because the world is so full of pointless sensational dishonesty, which is something I think has gotten worse since I last worked a job.
So I listened and prayed, but in spite of my fervent prayers, I couldn’t think of a single brilliant thing to say, so I just told him I was sorry and that he was worth more than he was given and that I was proud of him for being a better man, for getting sober, for working hard. There was a pause and this big tatted up guy said...
"People are capable of great ugliness. But people are also beautiful. All of us."
And the Holy Face of Christ gazed upon this young man, on me, on our conversation. Before that moment, I was focused on the act of service. Just let me say and do the right thing, Lord. Yet the man’s words were of the Spirit and for me whether he intended it or not. I know that with certainty because part of God's deep work in me over the last couple years has been to illuminate the beauty of others where I was blind to it. The phrasing couldn’t have been more direct.
God has broken down some huge stone walls in dark places—a great work in my obstinate heart. He’s taken shattered stone…
And made it tender.
God speaks and moves where He will.
”A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will take out of your flesh the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh…” Ezekiel 36:26
How does God piece a heart together that has been broken by grief while also softening those pieces? It must be like trying to play Tetris with warm jello. I just don’t know. Regardless, the words of a young fighter were another neon sign on the winding path toward home. And you can't convince me that God doesn't speak to us clearly and constantly.
People can be so ugly. The worst kinds of ugly. But they are also so beautiful.
If I’m going to be in the world, I have to bring this aspect of my maternity and fight to see God in every person and circumstance. The Lord isn’t a closet organizer, He’s a healer of hearts—both stone and jello—doing the miraculous through the mundane. Kind of like the work of a woman’s home or the space of possibility between the punches of a time clock.
5. MY HUSBAND IS A HEALING STRONGHOLD.
Women have a unique and marvelous capacity to see the dignity in each person and to magnify it. But in order to act on it, we must be available and vulnerable. This is where the genius (and crisis) of masculinity comes into play.
When we are not protected, cherished, provided for, and loved, we have difficulty with receptivity to the needs of others. We lose empathy. When we are preoccupied with pain management and self protection, we have a harder time receiving the broken into our care because we have lost the capacity to carry them.
This topic of how we have or haven't been loved and protected is huge and I can't really address it fully here, but we can’t medicate or distract that need away. It must be faced.
You are the poor. You are the vulnerable. You are beloved. Much of the battle will be in your own mind and soul defending the proposition that you are worthy of that love. When you know it about yourself, you will never doubt it in others. And when you see it in others, you will begin to see it in yourself.
My husband is a strong provider who loves well. Not everyone has that. So today…
My prayer is for your healing and for the healing of your whole family. That your openness to God—to allowing His gaze to fall upon you even in the stark nakedness of your weakness—will open the door to His ocean of healing mercy. That the men in our lives will know their own greatness because we love them and call them to it. That every person we meet sees in our eyes a reflection of Christ's gaze.
WHAT WE’RE READING
My 13-year old recently picked an old Michael O’Brien book off our shelf and started reading. The book is on Harry Potter and the Paganization of Culture, and I thought YEEESSS! This is when conversations around the table start to get exciting (and maybe also contentious but only in the best ways). I do wish O’Brien was on social media… but then perhaps his writing wouldn’t be the same.
This book was published in 2011 when the debate about Harry Potter was still lively and dialogue wasn’t as dead as it seems now. The question isn’t settled and O’Brien introduces some ideas worth considering. It’s on sale right now at Ignatius Press.
UGLY CHURCHES
One way that God seems to be working on my ridiculous pride is by granting spiritual consolations in the ugliest churches and chapels. It has been unexpectedly healing. “This is not a beautiful space that honors him” is no longer an excuse for interior irritation that inhibits prayer or encounter. Beauty is important—I’m not advocating for intentionally ugly churches—but God shows up where He will. And He is beautiful.
PEOPLE SOMETIMES GET IRRITATED WHEN…
I push back against the popular diet trend of Intermittent Fasting among women and suggest that our teen daughters should not be introduced to this practice. Though IF is very popular in Catholic and secular circles, current research (as opposed to trending bits of outdated research) shows that women do not benefit in the same way that men do from fasting, and that the practice can actually cause harm to active women. Fasting is not the same thing as disciplined eating. And the opposite of fasting is not gluttony, but provision. I’ll continue to write about this—and how this relates to religious fasting—but you can see some of the recent discussion on Instagram and in the “EAT!” highlight under my profile.
My peace offering. A little food humor…
God bless you, friends. May God continue to bless and heal you in His way, in His time, for His glory.
Melody
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Love this!