Monday, April 23, 2012

House-wifery

“Home is the true wife’s kingdom. There, first of all places, she must be strong and beautiful. She may touch life outside in many ways, if she can do it without slighting the duties that are hers within her own doors. But if any calls for her service must be declined, they should not be the duties of her home. These are hers, and no other one’s. Very largely does the wife hold in her hands, as a sacred trust, the happiness and the highest good of the hearts that nestle there. The best husband—the truest, the noblest, the gentlest, the richest-hearted—cannot make his home happy if his wife be not, in every reasonable sense, a helpmate to him.
In the last analysis, home happiness depends on the wife. Her spirit gives the home its atmosphere. Her hands fashion its beauty. Her heart makes its love. And the end is so worthy, so noble, so divine, that no woman who has been called to be a wife, and has listened to the call, should consider any price too great to pay, to be the light, the joy, the blessing, the inspiration of a home.
Men with fine gifts think it worth while to live to paint a few great pictures which shall be looked at and admired for generations; or to write a few songs which shall sing themselves into the ears and hearts of men. But the woman who makes a sweet, beautiful home, filling it with love and prayer and purity, is doing something better than anything else her hands could find to do beneath the skies.”
― J.R. Miller

I found this quote on another blog recommended by my sister-in-law, Encouraging Beautiful Motherhood.  Recently I've been convicted that I complain far too much.  Here I am, living the life I always dreamed of, staying at home with a dog on my heels and a baby on my hip, and I complain about it.  I don't complain about being a mother; I confirmed with the Mechanic that in general, I act like I enjoy motherhood.  But, I don't act like I enjoy "housewifehood."  I don't like cleaning, I don't like cooking, and therefore I tend to not do either.  And I complain about what little I actually do.  
As an incentive, I posted pictures of how horrible my house currently is on Facebook.  I figure if I put it up there for all to see just how messy, cluttered, and unorganized my life is, I'd have a bit more motivation to fix things.  My hope is eventually to post pictures of a clean, organized home.  I don't want perfection; I'm fine with a stray sippy cup or toy, or some dust bunnies in the corner.  But this "hope the house doesn't catch on fire because we'll never make it out alive" living has got to stop.  
So today, I cleaned my kitchen counters.  Big whoop you say.  Um, yeah... those poor counters hadn't been cleaned in who knows how long.  It's a good thing I cleaned when I did because another month or so and I wouldn't have been able to reach that one corner because of a belly!  It looks so much better in there!  And I feel better... I feel like something got accomplished, and I even have dinner ready for the Mechanic whenever he makes it home.  So there's a few dirty dishes next to the sink again... but overall, it's clean, so I'm okay with that.  They'll get done tomorrow morning. 

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