The central narrative of my motherhood story is my struggle to find joy, not only in my privileges but also in my duties. I have always complained about things like laundry, dishes, cooking, and cleaning. I expect I always will.
But some days, I find myself unexpectedly enjoying the duties; finding beauty in the sparkling sink, the sunlight on the clean tile, the new toothbrushes in the newly-washed jar sitting by the sink.
There’s a song that the kids and I have been listening to in the van. They sing of God being “the color of my world”. The Sweet Pea and I had an extensive conversation about what this could mean. We came up with lots of options, but the one we liked the best was the idea of seeing the world through God-colored glasses. Meaning that everything we see becomes transformed by the lenses through which we see it. This includes the big things like global politics, epidemics, and disasters, and also the little things like cooking dinner and cleaning bathrooms.
I could choose to see through the lenses of weary humanity. I could notice that the tile, though clean, is still 40 years old and ugly. Or that the sink, though sparkling, still doesn’t drain. Or I could notice that even while I was cleaning the bathroom, the kids were about the business of making it dirty again.