We’ve likely all heard the phrase, the work of a mother is never done, used to depict the endless cycle of nurturing, caregiving, and teaching that characterize motherhood. In recent years it’s even become popular to itemize the monetary value attached to motherhood, trying to total the cost it would take to outsource each duty typically absorbed by the mother and keeper of the home. While these are attempts to highlight the value of the work and the weight carried by a mother, I fear these images tend to be displayed through a lens dimmed by despair. A lens that effectively paints the appointment of a mother as a burden to be borne, replacing the value of the work with a wearisome weight. A lens that portrays the repetitive work as mundane and meaningless; encouraging mothers to look hopelessly at the clean dishes in the cabinet knowing they will soon be dirtied again, to feel as though they labor in vain, aimlessly moving laundry from the basket to the washer, to the dryer, to a basket only to move more clothes from another basket into the washer. When we live with such a lens over our eyes, we look up at 4pm and sigh, feeling as though we have nothing to show for our day; because nothing is done.
Let us remember Matthew 6:22-23, “The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” If our eye is the lamp to our body, with the ability to either illuminate our soul with hope or blind us with a darkness of despair; then we must discern what lens we look at our life through and understand that such a lens will shape our perception of reality.
Now, what would it look like to take off the scales of despair covering our eyes and to look at motherhood through a lens of hope and eternal value? Let us consider this truth: the work of a mother will never be done this side of glory. Yet, through this same lens and with the same breath let us also consider this truth: the fruit of a mother’s labor is one of the only fruits we even have a chance of taking with us into eternity. So long as there is life being lived, there will always be work for a mother to do. Though the washing of dishes and folding of laundry may be monotonous and mundane; it is rewarding, and it is work that can only be done in hope. Hope for another meal to be made in the clean pot, filling clean dishes and in turn satisfying hungry bellies and nourishing growing bodies. Clothes can only be washed in hope of being cleaned and worn again; clothing, warming, and comforting little bodies that will inevitably dirty them again in the midst of their living and playing. Cleaning can only be done in hope that such spaces will be home to fellowship again, providing a place of comfort and solace. When we see our duties through this lens of hope, we see the value and the meaning in the mundane. We see that the work may not ever be done, but it is always worth doing, and worth doing with hope and in love.
