As I’ve thought more about my propensity to complain, I realized that a good amount of the time that I spend talking to other moms is also focused on negativity. Mostly, it boils down to complaints about all of the things that we are busy doing and our children’s foibles and troubles. How we handle our children’s problems is a topic for another day, but today I wanted to write about busyness.

My husband is getting ready to go on a trip with the youth group to Chicago for their spring break. As I have thought about my time alone here with the boys (pregnant/morning sickness/single mom), I have been overwhelmed by the prospect of it all.

And yet, compare my life today to the life of an average American wife 150 years ago. At 27, I’d have been married closer to 10 years by now instead of 4 and would have 4 or 5 children by now instead of 2. We would be living on a farm in the middle of nowhere perhaps with a small town within a day’s horse and buggy ride. I would be up before dawn to tend the animals, pump water and carry it to the house, get the wood burning stove going, and cook breakfast. During the day, in addition to raising the children, I would tend our vegetable garden, sew and mend clothes, knit, clean the house (minus vacuum cleaner, Windex, or “scrubbing bubbles”), and help in the fields at times. I can’t even think of all of the responsibilities I would have. Today, I have so many modern conveniences to help in my daily labors that it is laughable. Me, busy? What do I have to complain about?

It would be interesting to read about what women of that time thought about their lives, daily routines, and value as a wife and mom. I bet that they were much more content than we are today. We have so many outside pressures on us. Stripped of our identity and sense of value at home by our modern culture, we try to find ourselves in jobs, social standing, being the best “soccer mom” our there, having accomplished children, etc.

I believe that I am fulfilling my God-given role by being at home with my boys and keeping our home for my husband, but I still struggle so much. I get overwhelmed by the constant demands on me and really resist the selflessness needed to thrive. Why? Because of my sinful nature certainly, but I also get so tired of fighting for myself. I read a blog the other day (which if I can find, I'll link to it) where a woman talked about her longing for a spiritual mentor and her realization that she needed to plow ahead despite her lack of support. She realized that she needed to stop looking for support and that she was going to fight hard, even alone. Perhaps that is where I am. Coming to realize that though alone, my worthy fight must be fought daily—in acts of selflessness and patience, as I rely on God’s grace.