Free At Last, Free At Last!

Maternity leave has been a BLAST.

I'm not going to lie.

All you stay-at-home moms out there can chuckle about how it really is a more-than full time job. You can pat me on top of my curly, new-mom head and tell me about the rigors of housewifery and motherhood. And I'll believe you. Don't worry.

But I will also tell you that this is the BEST gig any woman could possibly hope for. And it is far superior to anything that comes attached to a bi-weekly paycheck.

The weeks prior to Christmas were very full for young Grantling and I. We were learning each other, finishing Christmas presents, and trying (vainly) to figure out a "schedule." We had a primarily "homemade" Christmas this year, so that meant lots of hustling and bustling on my end of things, in an attempt to communicate love, despite the lack-luster compilation of gifts. And so, this Christmas compilation of glitter, family time, and love all served to camouflage my heart. But it soon came out. It always comes out.

All this bustling was followed by  spiritual doldrums. (And consequently... wifely doldrums, motherly doldrums, cleanliness doldrums, etc. The doldrums add up!)

Here I was, cuddling a baby, staying at home, making dinner each night--living the dream! And yet I was grumpy, dissatisfied, and a perfect poster for the feminist movement: clearly I was a woman who wasn't satisfied at home.

But it wasn't my home. It wasn't my (amazing) husband. It wasn't my (adorably perfect) baby.

It was me.

I had been handed freedom... Ten hours a day of pure, uninterrupted bliss which otherwise would have been occupied by work.

And my sin had filled those hours.

I became lazy, tired, self-absorbed. I was dissatisfied, cranky, and hard to please. I groaned, cried, and whimpered my way through a precious week of leave, before I realized that I had ignored a vital warning.

"For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another."*

Paul warned the Galatians... Freedom will entice you towards sin. Freedom provides a vacuum of time, which you will have an opportunity to fill. And your heart will want to fill it with selfishness.

In my week of doldrums, I had focused on me--my happiness, my comfort, my desires. Focus on others, striving to serve, and (most importantly) gleaning glory for my God and Savior, were not my priorities. I wrapped myself up in dank, foul self-absorption, and the light of grace and mercy were shut out. Here I was, hourly holding proof that God had a glorious plan for me, while I was content to shuffle crumbs under my kitchen table and watch Cosby Show reruns.

This is not an attempt to elicit the perfect "June Cleaver/Susie Homemaker Movement." Crumbs under the table, and un-vacuumed steps were not the problem. Productivity with a new baby is hard. That is not the point.


The point is, I was living for myself. My heart was the problem. I had narrowed and shrunk my world to the size of me, and that is always a recipe for disaster. I filled the void of my new-found (albeit temporary) freedom of time, with selfish goals and priorities.

So here I am today: freely acknowledging my selfishness (for selfishness can often be ignored, when it's just you and a wee baby), and turning to the Creator of Freedom. He alone found my wayward heart. He alone inspired contrite confession. And He alone can elicit service of love which my life owes Him.

I'm busting out the vacuum cleaner and cranking up a sermon on God's glory. After all, He may not call me to big things. But He has called me to great things.

Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me!
    O Lord, be my helper!

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
    you have loosed my sackcloth
    and clothed me with gladness,

that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
    O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!**

* Galatians 5:13 

**Ps. 30:10-12