What Matters

We had the best church meeting today. Time does not permit me to expound on the details, but it was really wonderful and every talk touched upon something I have been thinking about a lot lately.

I realize that I am a little bit too introspective and analytical and critical with myself as I live my life--I know this, but I haven't been able to improve much (there have been improvements, though--I am slowly letting go of my death-grip on the clean house and perfectly groomed children, mostly out of necessity, though). The ghost of my great grandma (and lots of my own psycho demons) is always whispering over my shoulder to do things "right"or "better" or "perfect."

Although I am learning to tune it out when I need to, the thoughts are still there and lots of times they distract me from what matters most. I focus on the objects and the controllable things in my world, not because I am materialistic or because they mean so much to me (because they don't), but because in the chaos and emotional challenge of raising a family, contollable things give structure, predictability, stability. Putting chores and duties above my true responsibilities makes me look like I have a handle on things, puts me in control of something, when in truth it is perhaps a way of (unwittingly) avoiding the hard things--what matters most: relationships, communicating things like feelings, needs, and spiritual experiences with my family, finding the right ways to discipline and teach my daughters and they grow into different stages and have different needs. It's hard work--lots harder that doing dishes and scrubbing toilets.

This post by a dear friend of mine hit the nail on the head, just when it had become obvious to me as the next big thing I need to work on in my life. I let the low things press out the high things so often. Then I found an old songbook and started playing piano and singing songs to myself one afternoon while the girls were asleep. When I turned to this song, I couldn't even choke out the words:

"Are you giving the least to those who matter most
Or are you sharing your best with those who really aren't that close?
Well, it's time to look around
And find out where your greatest joys are found.
Do you listen with love when someone's soul is aching
Or do you simply choose which judgment you'll be making?
Well, it's time to turn around
And find out where your greatest joys are found.
Are you running the race by rushing to conclusions?
Are you part of what's wrong or part of the solution?
If you don't know where to turn
Just listen to your heart and you will learn."

And if that's not heart -crushing enough, Addie has started to crumble to pieces and cry when I yell at her instead of obstinately yelling back (don't even ask me why we are yelling in the first place--things are THAT out of hand). And now at least once a week I cry myself to sleep at night after I review my day in prayers and realize what has come out of my mouth and all the chances to show love that I gave up. Today's church meetings cemented my resolve to make it stop. Today is the day. The following poem is the last word...I am going to be a better mother and wife and that's it. Everything else can wait.

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs; Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton