The Domestic Delema

I had a very interesting conversation the other day that really caused me to think. The three women that I was talking to (or rather, listening while they talked) were nurses at the nursing home where I volunteer during the summer. It all started as most of these conversations do: with flattery. They all gushed for a while about how cute I was, how good I was with the residents, and how mature and adult like I was for a fifteen-year-old. Then, like clockwork, came THE QUESTION. You who are between the ages of twelve and twenty are probably quite familiar with this question, "What are your plans for collage? What are you going to do with your life?". And so, I began (once again) to explain that I had no plans to study for a career upon graduation from high school. This won me the first of many "Wow, what planet did you drop from?" looks. You know the one. "Well, what are you going to do than?", came the next predictable question. I sighed, viewing this as reoccurring trial rather than an opportunity. "I want to be a stay-at-home mom.", I said, wishing with all my heart that I had used a better choice of words. I want to be so much more than just a stay-at-home mom. I want to be a helpmeet to a godly man. I want to raise our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. I want to serve my family as the Bible outlines in Proverbs 31, Titus 2, and so many other places. But before I could snatch back the already uttered words, one of the nurses pressed on. "Of course you realize," she quipped condescendingly, "You are going to have to marry some one really rich to make it on one income." And so I began, patiently I hope, to explain about our family, living frugally, and was about to introduce her to the beauty of thrift stores, when I was cut short with " Well, your dad must make more than you realize, because it's just not possible for a family to live on one average income." So, apart from wounded pride and an insult to my intelligence, what did I come away from this discussion with? I felt silly and inferior. That's right, my bubble had definitely been busted and my little candle snuffed out. When I got home later that day, after telling my wonderful, wise, and fugal mother about the incident, I took it to God in prayer. Imagine my relief when sanity began to set in. I am not inferior or foolish for embracing the amount of clarity that God has given me at this time, and no one should have the ability to steer me from the path that He is leading me on. There are so many things that I now wish I had told those women. Would they have thought me even more off my rocker than they do now? Possibly( although they obviously thought that I couldn't get much weirder after I told them that I wanted ten kids!). But I need to stop every now and then and ask myself who I am trying to please: the ever-changing conveyor belt of pop culture , or my wise and loving Heavenly Father who always knows exactly what is best for me? Which would you rather be pleasing?

Posted by Lydia