My Heavy Jar

Being a mama is a very isolating thing for me at times. Even in my own home and around my people.

I'm always biting my tongue and guarding this and that. That I find myself so completely blocked up that I realize that I'm hiding myself just in order to maintain, survive and keep functioning. 

Hiding from my kids, husband and the world. Trying to maintain.

My daily life isn't robotic, institutional... but I do, with out a doubt place a far too high emphasis of productivity, management and basically even just trying to keep on top of laundry and piles and bills.

Recently, I realize this mechanism of mine is nothing more than a idol of sorts. 

It's an idol of control... whether well intentioned or not.

It's an idol of pride... which is just ugly and sinful at it's core.

In addition, to this I tend to get easily distracted... not by my sweet children or by a moment or event of life but by things that fleetingly "fill me" with a dash of approval on things like Facebook or Instagram. But like any shallow thing, it's never filling for long. 

I was reading about the woman at the well not that long ago and one thing stuck with me... 

Here's a woman doing her chores, undoubtably very intent on getting her task done, a very monotonous, daily and burdensome task... and she encounters the Lord. 

After her interactions with Jesus it says, "the woman left her water jar and went away into the town and said to the people, 'Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?" 

That part, "left her water jar" has been a reoccurring and nagging thought for me. She left her burdens, she left her monotonous duties, she left her preconceived ideas about her needs, she left what she had in reserve for herself, and considered it absolutely obsolete considering the good things she found in Christ! 

The very water she needed for her daily allotment of cooking, cleaning, bathing, sustenance was worthy of forgetting and abandoning so that she could run to do the will of the Lord. 

Laundry must be done. Dishes, cooking, cleaning, wiping of baby bottoms... it's all good... even holy. But, it's not the point. Doing it, checking it off, managing it, mechanizing and mastering it is NOT the point. Keeping the plates spinning... 

Later on Jesus continues talking about work and "duties"... he tells the disciples, "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work..." He expounds and goes on about how the work of harvest is near... and how some planted and sowed and others will reap... but it's all labor. And how both are brought together because "the sower and the reaper may rejoice together" because "they gathered fruit for eternal life." 

So poetic. But, in it I see that I'm very much a sower. At least right now. Motherhood is a sower's job. All day long... seeding, tending, weeding... repeat. It's easy to feel as if you are a slave or a slave to it when you don't see the harvest... or when you don't lift of your eyes beyond your row... or when you don't lay down your burdening water jar and "do the will of the him who sent us."

But, it's all a part of this thing. 

Laying down my jar now. 

Digging my hands into the dirt and feeling it's coolness. 

Realizing that this endless sowing is also going to end in rejoicing!