The Tilling Years

Once a month I get an alumni magazine from Westmont College. The first thing I do is flip to the back where it lists who has gotten married to who(m?)(so now you know, I wasn't an English major), and who has had a baby etc. for each graduating class. Even with such a small college I rarely recognize the names. It also lists where my fellow alumni are working and highlights some of the outstanding things some of them are doing.
Yesterday afternoon as I sat on a little patch of sun in my living room floor for the blessed "nap/video/little bit of sanity" period of the day - for some reason I thought about all those incredible things people my age are accomplishing. Then I looked at myself with my Bible and journal in my lap and still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes from my 20 winks, and couldn't help but ask, "What am I doing?". Feeling like I'm not accomplishing much with my domestic duties I closed my eyes in prayer and sensed Him say, "These are the tilling years." The picture I got was that the soil has to be prepared before it can reap a harvest.
I'm not only being tilled myself through the character it takes to discipline and train three little men - I'm tilling the soil of their hearts as well. It is my great aspiration that God reaps a great harvest in their lives when they grow up to serve Him.
So right now, even though my job is at it's best "low profile" and seems unimpressive, it was good to remember that it is NOT unimportant. I won't make the cover of any alumni magazine - probably not even a little blip - after all, how exciting would it be to read, "Housewife made white chili soup (Thanks, Jess for the fab recipe)for dinner, folded three loads of laundry and read two chapters of Jigsaw Jones Mysteries to 3 and 5 year old"? - Not very.
At times my job seems monotonous - just as I'm sure a farmer feels plowing up row after row. But its simplicity lends itself to the peaceful rhythm that fills my day (ha! what planet am I on - what peace? what rhythm? with three boys?). Okay - so it might not appear that way on the surface, but in my heart I'm at peace - not stressed or rushed unless I make myself be by cramming too much in for one day. After all, what is stressful about pressing, "cold, heavy cycle, no extra rinse"?
It is the very simplicity of my role that I think will plow the deepest furrows in the souls of these three little men I've been entrusted to raise. They can rely on me to do what I need to give them a healthy home life - including, food, clean clothing and a stable, loving marriage to raise them up under.
The season for other pursuits outside my home will come all too quickly. In fact just today as I ate lunch with Thing 1 while eyeing up my novel, it occurred to me, I don't have many lunches left with him. Next year he will be at school all day and will be eating with his friends. The novel can wait (until he's tucked in bed at least) for now, I'm tilling the soil. "So, did anything silly happen today at Pre-K?"