It
doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, it ruins my day. It
generally takes place when I am in line at the grocery store, or
scrunched between my five kids in the sales aisle searching for the
best price on boys’ underwear. The scene goes something like this…
I look down and realize that my oldest son has two different shoes on—a
yellow rubber boot and a brown sandal. My youngest daughter is pulling
long, stretchy, strands of gum out of her hair and sticking them to the
back of her sister’s shirt, who—at the realization—begins protesting
(wide-eyed and grossed out) way too loudly. In the meantime, the wet
two-year-old on my hip begins sneezing uncontrollably on account of his
weird habit of winding locks of my un-brushed hair around his finger
and shoving the ends up his nose. And when I look up at my oldest
daughter with my much-used “could you help me, please?!!” stare, I
realize that she’s standing there, frozen—dead asleep—eyes open, but
snoring.
And
that’s when “she” walks by. The woman with the perfect hair, with the
stunning, unwrinkled (Taco Bell sauce-free) suit. She strolls by with
an easy step without tripping over children or dragging along
stragglers by the collar. She has perfect nails, matching shoes,
diamond earrings, and lightly holds the keys to her two-seater BMW in
her clutter-free hand.
She does not have
baby wipes or subtraction flash cards poking out of the top of her bag.
She is not in a hurry, she is not frantically searching to get what she
came for and then get out before the “screamer” goes off. She seems so
free. And on my worst days, I abandon all that I know to be true, and
follow her in my mind, by jumping onto the "What If" bus.
I know where the
"What If" bus goes. It travels from, “I Could Have Been” to “If Only,”
stopping just long enough to tour the supposed highlights of glamorous
possibilities that were forsaken when I signed up for Christ, and then
said “I Do” to the man that my Heavenly Father brought me. The “What
If” bus takes me to prestigious colleges, to journalism school, to
quiet libraries, to an exciting job in a plush office at a top selling
magazine or major newspaper in a busy highrise, or to hot, sandy
beaches where my tummy isn’t squishy, or "oogelly googelly” (as my
five-year-old coined it). The "What If" bus promises to be a
tantalizing tour, but when I get back from my little trip, I am
irritated, impatient, discontent, and sour. It always brings emptiness.
The prince of
this world encourages us to covet, to become discontent, and to believe
the grass is greener on the other side by using subtle strokes of “If
Only…” He gives glimpses of a leisurely" good life" that we deserve.
How is it that I can so quickly lose sight of what my blessings are,
and see them instead as a hindrance, or as a small six-by-ten cell? It
is a good thing that my husband yanked out the TV antenna, because I am
too easily deceived by empty perceptions. The days that I struggle with
maintaining my focus are, without a doubt, the very worst.
What I fail to
remember, when I climb those steps onto the “What If” bus, is that I
don’t know the ins and outs of the lives of those women who I envision
as free. Are they happy? Do they lie in bed every night giggling with
glee to be where they are in life? Is their life even what I imagine it
to be? Probably not. But even if they do have perfectly wonderful
lives, what would it have to do with the precious life my Father has
blessed me with?
One day, a while
back, when I was rummaging through a dusty little novelty shop, I came
across a great poster of a beautiful and unique full, vibrant flower,
which was planted in a plain brown cracked pot. The saying written
beneath it has become one of my favorites. It said,
“Bloom Where You’re Planted.”
God
has put me where I am for a reason. I know that He has a purpose for my
life, and I know (despite my occasional "trips") that I’m blessed. I
know that I would not trade my crazy, hectic life for anything. The
thought of not having my children around me, the thought of not seeing
my girls spin in circles with their "princess dresses," or the thought
of not being awakened by my son with his little hand on my cheek,
whispering, "You’re the fairest one of all," is overwhelming.
I could not
imagine my life without the joy and pride I feel when I see my two
oldest daughters serving our family out of their love for God. And my
littlest son, even when he is sticking my hair up his nose, is the most
precious and darling gift that I could wish for. What if I did not have
them? Who would they become if I were dashing off to carry out a life
of self-fulfillment? Could any type of glamorous life replace what I
have? Is there any dream that pursues Self that can give the
satisfaction and joy that my family brings? I am where God has placed
me; I can bloom where I have been planted and make my life beautiful in
this little garden as I grow in the love and knowledge of my Lord,
stretching upward to honor Him with what I’ve been given.
The world would
have you believe that you have sold yourself short if you have given
your life to God, to your husband and to your family. The world would
have you believe that the role of a homemaker is archaic, or even
barbaric, and that women should be out realizing their full potential.
But truly, when I am old and gray, I couldn't care less if I never
hear, “Mrs. Igarashi, you’ve just bee made CEO of XYZ company,” or
“Mrs. Igarashi, you’ve just won the 'Best Dressed and Nicest Nails'
award,” or even, “Congratulations, Jen, you’ve just won the Pulitzer
Prize.” No. What I really want to hear someday, is, “You were always
there, Mom, even when it was hard or boring or messy and exhausting.
You must have loved us so much.” And when my time here, is up, and I
leave my little garden, I want to hear from my Lord, “Well done, my
good and faithful servant.”
God bless you as
you remember why you follow Him, and be strengthened with the knowledge
of His love and perfect purpose for your life. May I remember as well.
She looketh
well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of
idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband
also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but
thou excellest them all (Proverbs 31:27–29).
About the Author
Jenefer Igarashi is the Senior Editor for TOS™ Magazine.
She resides in Pilot Hill, California with her dear husband and 5
little blessings, ages 2-13. She loves hearing from readers! Jenefer is
available for speaking engagements as well. Call the TOS™ main office
for details. 530-823-0447.
