• Angelene Woodard

Motherhood: A Service to God


Hi. My name is Angelene. And I’m a brat.

That’s right. I’m rotten.

I have a perfectly fine home – that I complain about.

I have a perfectly fine minivan – that I complain about it. (I mean, it is a van.)

I have perfectly fine children who act like, well, children – and they get on my nerves.

I have a perfectly fine dishwasher – that I hate loading and unloading.

I have a fairly decent life insurance policy – that I don’t want to pay premiums on.

I am blessed beyond belief.

Yet, I get all fussy and cussy when I have to wash another load of clothes.

Seriously. It’s not like I’m washing them with handmade soap and water I pumped from a well.

I complain about cooking. And cleaning.

And answering all the questions my children send my way. (In my defense, they ask a lot of questions.)

And – I prepare my family soo many meals. All day. Every day. The food situation around here is cray cray.

There’s the budgeting for food. The shopping for food. The hauling, unloading, and organizing food. Then there’s the food prep. Let’s not forget all the arguing about who’s gonna eat such-and-such and who’s not going to even try the other such-and-such.

It’s ridiculous.

I am a mad woman I tell ya!

Basically, I’m tired of being a mom and a house wife.

There. I said it.

The mundane tasks that make up my everyday life are boring. And stupid. And it’s getting really old, really fast.

But…God has called me to do this.

God has called me to the ministry of motherhood and homemaking.

What’s a worn-out, worn-down, frazzled mama to do?

Because the truth is – I am not teaching these kids how to wipe their own poopy bottoms because I love them.

I do it because I am the mom. I have to do it. It’s called obligation.

I’m no longer brushing their teeth so they can experience the benefits of proper dental hygiene. Nope. I just don’t want outrageous dentist bills in my near future.

I’m no longer scheduling play-dates so my offspring can enjoy positive social interactions with their peers. Uh-uh. I need to get a pap smear. Therefore, the kiddos are going to a friend’s house.

Let’s face it. I’m burned out on taking care of little people.

I’m tired. I’m frustrated. I’m not mothering from a place of joy anymore.

I’m kinda bitter. I’m kinda mad. I’m kinda sick and tired of being taken advantage of.

Here’s the deal.

I love my children like crazy. I love being their mother.


But, sometimes – I don’t love mothering.

Sometimes, I wish the Lord would call me to do something fun. Something adventurous and/or impressive.

Something that doesn’t involve budgets and minivans and so much dang poop.

He has called me to raise these children according to His ways.

He has called me to love and nurture them.

He has called me to wipe their noses, apply adequate amounts of sunscreen, and put them to bed on time.

He wants me to feed them, read to them, and answer all their questions.

And I’m pretty sure He wants to change my perspective.

I can feel the Holy Spirit tug on my hateful heart.

I feel Him encouraging me to do all of this out of the love I have for Him.

What if I cut up another apple as a way to show God that I love Him?

What if I brush all the tangles with patience and tenderness because I love Him?

What if I pick up 2,407 Legos because I love Him?

What if I mothered these children – His children – as a service to Him?

Motherhood is not just about the children. Motherhood is about me.

It’s about how I obey God. It’s about how I follow Him.

It’s an opportunity to love Him in the midst of this calling.

Lord, I will sacrifice my privacy and talk through the shower curtain to these little kids (who haven’t even bothered to ask their father) because I love You.

Lord, I will re-wash this load of clean dishes that are now mixed with the dirty dishes because I love You.

Lord, I will serve my family and create a warm, peaceful (aka: boring and predictable) home life because I love You.

I will follow You into the over-flowing laundry room, the unorganized kitchen, the trashed bedrooms, the unsanitary bathroom, and the junk yard we call “the garage” because I know You are there.

You have called me to this work. I will love my children with all my might (that's code for: do all the work with a happy heart) because I love You.

Through serving them, I serve You.

By caring for them, I obey You.

By sacrificing myself before my family and this home, I worship You.

By loving them, I love You.

Colossians 3:23 And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.


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