A maid service which advertises with bulk mail in our town reprimands "Life is too short to clean your own house." The number of meals which families eat out, prepared and cleaned up by someone else, is an astronomical part of family budgets. I even saw a newsclip last week touting the introduction of a Swedish invention which is a bed that makes itself! It seems that we spend an inordinate amount of energy and resources to get someone else to do our homework!Now approaching 72, and learning to accept more help these days, I appreciate occasional assistance with cleaning and gardening. But I prefer doing most of it myself.
I
grew up having chores - housekeeping and kitchen chores I was allowed to be
responsible for. At times I helped when Daddy fed the cows or drug a trailer behind a tractor to pick watermelons. I don’t remember this
as a negative, just something that was done because I was told to, most of the time feeling good about it. I may have not always begged to dust or take
care of my little sister, but I loved helping in the kitchen. Cleaning up afterward was just part of the
process. The summer I was twelve, I helped behind the counter of the small cafe my parents owned. I had part time jobs as a teenager. That was work, not a chore, right? When I graduated high school at seventeen, entered college, and became
solely responsible for getting myself up and off to 7 a.m. classes and to my on campus job, I was given
a book with a quotation by Charles Kingsley which still comes to mind when I
hear anyone bemoaning “having” to do something.
“Thank God–every morning when you get up–that you have something to do
which must be done, whether you like it or not. Being forced to work, and forced
to do your best, will breed in you a hundred virtues which the idle never
know.”
I
wouldn’t have labeled it so at the time, but I was learning the value of
discipline. I also learned that something I accomplish has a great deal of
meaning that involves something I am.
Beginning all those years ago, I began to understand how I could find deeper
meaning in my daily tasks required to care for my home and family. I found great
creative energy in gardening, planning and cooking meals, finding ways to make
our home beautiful with art and music, encouraging our boys with good books, and
offering hospitality to our friends and family. But the weeding, cleaning,
mopping, potscrubbing, endless laundry (3 boys certainly makes for lots of
washing and ironing) and keeping up with all the practices and games they were
involved in could have easily overwhelmed me except for my belief that what I
was doing was more than a job that would likely be necessary to repeat
soon.
I could pray for
the man who would wear the shirt I was ironing.
I could be intent on loving the little boy from whose jean pocket I had
just fished out a frog. I could focus on
blessing the messes as well as taking pride in the delicious meals. For many years, I have kept a small framed
poem. It has peeped from beneath the
stacks of paperwork on my desk, perched by the detergent in the utility room,
and for a long time now has rested on the side of my kitchen sink.
Teach me, my God and King
In
all things Thee to see
And
what I do in anything,
To
do it as for Thee.
~ George
Herbert
Kathleen Norris, in her little book, The Quotidian Mysteries, discusses this
process of the deeper meaning in our chores.
“…all serve to ground us in the world, and they need not
grind us down. Our daily tasks, whether
we perceive them as drudgery or essential, life-supporting work, do not define
who we are as women or as human beings. But they have a considerable spiritual
import, and their significance for Christian theology, the way they come
together in the fabric of faith, is not often appreciated.”
We may do well to consider any differences with which we approach work (in the sense of a job for which we are paid) and chores, the necessary tasks which order our daily lives and the life of our family.
