Because everyone loves a good story
Remember when I discovered The Literary Life podcast and it filled me with joy and longing? I’m joyful when I hear sharp minds discussing books I love, but I long to use my mind like that again on a regular basis. Instead, I’m making dinner, wiping noses, and pretending my brain isn’t just a bowl of cold oatmeal.
This led me to mourn the seeming exclusivity of life trajectories. If I choose A, I thereby forego B. As a totally hypothetical example, if I choose to be a wife and homeschool mama who does some editing on the side, I choose not to be a single reader, writer, and teacher. I can add a dash of the latter to a vat of the former, but it will be just enough to give a whiff of what once was.
Most of the time, that’s totally fine with me because I’m too pooped out and preoccupied to give a rip these days. But sometimes I find myself buying into this fairly-modern, fairly-first-world belief that I should be able to have it all at the same time—that I deserve to have it all. This lie steals sanity and peace.
Is it impossible to do both—to be a great wife and mother while still spending maximum brain power on the things I enjoy? No, it’s not impossible. Has it been done before? Definitely, and with great success, I’m sure. But I’ll tell you right now, that hasn’t been my experience in my illustrious, five-year career as a mother.
So yes, I admit that there are times when my former life rears its gorgeous head and beckons me with its siren call. “Emily,” it croons, “think of all the books you could have read by now. Think of the amazing things you could have written.” Of course I tie myself to the mast and sail on, but I can hear them screeching behind me, “You blew it big time, you sucker!”
But rather than wallowing, this is the perfect opportunity to remind myself of something amazing: while the world may call my choices a waste, Jesus calls them beautiful.
To be clear, it’s not just motherhood that’s beautiful; it’s a life of grateful obedience and worship. A life spent in pursuit of Jesus and his kingdom is never wasted. God comforted me with this reminder the other day when I was reading through Matthew 26. Here we see Mary of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus, being commended by Jesus—again. The first time was when she chose to sit at his feet and simply listen. He said she’d chosen the best way to spend her time.
Later on, we see Jesus commending Mary again. In Matthew 26, while Jesus is reclining at the dinner table, Mary breaks open her jar of costly perfume, pours it on Jesus’ feet, and wipes him clean with her hair. Almost everyone is outraged—even the disciples. They consider her actions a waste, and they tell her so.
But do you know who doesn’t consider it a waste? Jesus. In fact, he calls it beautiful. Her gift is beautiful because it’s offered selflessly with a heart of gratitude. Her actions embody grateful obedience and worship, even if Jesus is the only one to understand it.
Mary chose to show lavish love instead of shrewd self-preservation. This love isn’t at odds with wisdom; it’s the outpouring of wisdom. When Mary spends a year’s wages on a single display of devotion to Jesus, she’s showing more understanding than all of the men who’ve been traveling with Jesus for the past three years. “In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial,” Jesus says in verse 12.
Within a week, Jesus would be hanging on a cross, and yet Mary seems to be the only one in the room who understands that. This knowledge drives her to spend her most precious treasure on Jesus because she believes he is worth it. When she had been sitting at his feet, maybe she’d heard him say, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” So when she chooses grateful obedience and worship, the disciples call it waste, but Jesus calls it beautiful.
Today, I think most of society would fall into the disciples’ mindset. “Don’t waste yourself and your gifts. Love yourself. Chase your dreams. You deserve it.” We’re inundated with advice to prioritize self-care, distance ourselves from toxic influences, cut ourselves off from negative energy, and do what makes us feel good.
Friends, there’s a place for taking care of ourselves, but these obsessions can amount to shrewd self-preservation. And, when we find that it’s not practical to put ourselves first all the time, these expectations can lead to bitterness and resentment. But when our lives display grateful obedience and worship, God takes care of us as he promises to do countless times throughout scripture. We don’t have to “look out for ourselves” because our Maker is already on the job.
One more encouraging aspect of this story is that Mary didn’t defend herself. She didn’t have to—Jesus defended her. In the three gospel accounts of this story, Mary never says a word. She wasn’t anointing Jesus to win the approval of the disciples; she was doing it to show selfless gratitude to her Lord, and he recognized her gift for what it was.
There will be no end to the opinions of others. Some people are so certain they know what you should have done with your life. You will never please everyone, but the good news is that you don’t have to. There’s only One whom it matters if you please. If our lives of grateful obedience are beautiful to Jesus, then it’s enough.
So there you have it. Those are the thoughts that have been rolling around in my head as I contemplate my past, present, and future. I realize it makes me sound like a horribly reluctant mom (which I promise I’m not—at least most of the time), but I’m sharing it anyway because I don’t think I’m alone in these feelings. This stage of life may not always fit my ideal of what it could or should be, but there’s peace in knowing that I’m right where God wants me.
It’s comforting to know that I don’t have to plan out my whole life. If I’m seeking to learn at the feet of Jesus, his love and his worth will motivate me to live a life of grateful obedience and worship even in the midst of what may sometimes feel like a waste. With God’s help, I can start thinking about myself less often and start loving my family with a grateful heart. When I make tiny strides in this direction, Jesus calls it beautiful.
And thankfully, there are seasons of life. I may occasionally mourn parts of the life I left behind, but it may not be gone forever. Passions are perennial. When my brain is less cluttered with the minutia of family life, the seeds of who I once was may have space to bloom again. Until then, I can make small decisions to water them periodically, remembering that good things are ahead, and good things are right now, too. May God help me find joy in the beautiful obedience of today.
Thank you for baring your soul, Emily Jean. I appreciate your honesty. You are a wonderful wife and mother. Both are high and difficult callings. God’s values are much different than ours. I think of such things as I play Willy Wonka with Isaiah and Eva. There are so many people to serve and bless. Investing love in the few that God gives us is far better than the many that seem more important. Mary’s ointment could have been a blessing to many, but God’s will was for it to be a blessing to One.