Quietly she makes her home,

Sometimes with joy and sometimes with tears.

She makes things beautiful, 

And little hands leave it undone that same day or same hour. 

She works in the kitchen to nourish her loved ones, 

And little noses turn up and her work can be wasted. 

Some days she’s left weary, discouraged, or wanting.

Lonely tears may be the day’s companion. 

But always on those days, are pockets of joy. 

If we look.

If we watch.

Watching brother play with brother. 

Receiving yet another dandelion bouquet.

The sound of joy when daddy comes home. 

The little goodnight conversations,

 and the goodnight kisses. 

A mother’s prayer over her children, 

The promise of love, 

And a good morning hug

This is true beauty in the home.

This is the everlasting making of the home. 

This is purpose.

~ Emma Sweat,

What is the true making of a home?

If you are a homemaker, it can be easy to lose sight of what we are truly wanting to cultivate in our homes. It’s so easy to get distracted and discouraged by task after task. But what do we really want?

Below, are my reflections on mothering and homemaking after I wrote the short piece above. The piece above spilled out of a difficult and emotional day of mothering and homemaking. I hope it can bring you some encouragement, and if nothing else, solidarity in this job that is incredibly beautiful and incredibly difficult.

My reflections on homemaking and the the true making of a home

Sometimes we need to see our days with a little romance to capture the beauty. In a house full of children, our surroundings can often look nothing like beauty. It’s messy and undone. There are sibling squabbles and children unwilling to obey. An untended kitchen with dishes piled precariously high. 

It can be so discouraging. It’s repetitive. Monotonous. It can feel hopeless when we don’t see much progress, or worse, regression. 

I never want to ignore the hard parts of life. There is no shame in being overwhelmed by job that is virtually impossible. Think of it – raise little souls, lead them in love, remain self controlled, tend to the house, cook all the food, manage all the schedules, and don’t forget to have it clean at the end of day and always presentable to guests. It’s a truly impossible job for one solitary human.

We will feel overwhelmed. It’s inevitable. Our feelings must come out, and they will one way or another. I find I have more control over how they come out when I express them sooner rather than later. 

While looking on the bright side is important so you don’t become stuck in the mud, it’s also ok to yell fire when there’s a fire. Ignoring our overwhelm, loneliness, or discouragement will never serve us.

Yes, a mother sets the tone of the home. We should strive to be a good example, but we are also allowed to feel. And letting our children see our feelings and express them in a healthy way is part of setting a well rounded example. 

Beware of completely romanticizing homemaking

Sometimes I fear in the instagram homemaker world that we can give off the idea that homemaking is all beauty and purpose. There are beautiful photos of perfect looking pies and baskets full of eggs sitting on clean tables in clean dining rooms. But I can tell you right now that in my home at least, there is often a mess sitting behind the camera. The process of making that pie with my child might have been extremely frustrating at some point and I may have lost my temper.

Comparing ourselves to a curated moment in time can feel extremely defeating. Then we look up from that photo and only see disarray and sibling fights in our homes.

Homemaking is indeed a high calling that does not always receive the respect it deserves and I am all about promoting that. 

But let us be careful not to make the calling so high that it seem perfection is required. Perfect contentedness, perfect self control, or perfect homemaking skills. 

We are human. We will fail. Things will challenge us to a breaking point. We will break sometimes.

Tears can heal. Tears can release. Our tears are kept near to God’s heart. 

“You have collected my tears in a bottle” – Psalm 56:8

My pastor shared recently that the word “bottle” can also be translated as “wineskin”. And do you know what happens to wine the longer it remains in a wineskin? It becomes better, richer, and deeper in flavor. 

God holds our tears and he gives them great purpose the longer we trust them to his care. The longer he holds them in his bottle. Our tears when released to our father can result in a deeper, richer, and in the end better view of our life.

Our tears are not wasted, no matter how trivial they may seem. Even if a child jumping on a pile of folded laundry is what ignites the tears, they are not silly. They hold value. They are an opportunity to grow and deepen.

The tears are likely about something deeper than folded laundry being dashed to chaos, and they mean something to God. They may hold even more purpose than we can possibly know. 

Dear homemaker, your tears are a treasure to your creator. 

Just as you long to hold and comfort your weeping child, so God longs to hold and comfort his. 

Go to Him.

Let Him hold you.

Sit there, and rest dear one.

Know that you are loved and cherished.

He sees you.

Always.