The days seem to go by in a repetitive blur – get up, shower, squeeze in some time in the Word before the kiddos greet me at 6:30, make the bed, see my husband off to work, make breakfast, do laundry, dishes, lunch, sweep, breathe, snack, supper, dishes, bedtime, REPEAT.
Doesn’t sound like much of a life, does it? Sure we go to the park, the museum, or the zoo every now and then. We play with friends and eat popsicles ( I make a mean fudgsicle).
But nothing really grand or glorious, or so it seems.
Most of my friends lives seem this way as well – the Rinse and Repeat of raising babies. Sometimes we wish that we could do more, be more than what we perceive ourselves to be – ‘just’ the mom, the woman who gives her life blood for her family.
All I wanted when I was a little girl was to get married and have a passel of children. That’s it – plain and oh, so simple. Right now, I’m living out that dream.
But there’s a restlessness, a discontent, a lie, that I’ve embraced.
One that tells me that this is not enough.
We don’t believe that we are actually living the Dream.
Recently a group of 4 blogger went on a trip with the Exodus Road. They wrote about what they saw and the impact watching trafficking in action has had on them.
One post in particular from Heather Armstrong at Dooce.com has had such an impact on me and continues to leave me in tears. The setting is a brothel, and she and an undercover investigator have just sat down with a 19 year old sex-worker.
Here’s an excerpt from Heather’s words:
“Can you ask her what she would love to do with her life if she didn’t have to work here? Would that make sense?”
He didn’t answer me and instead turned to her with a look of curiosity and began speaking in her native tongue. When he was done, she sat there for a very long time in complete silence. I didn’t know if it was because she had never been asked that question, never been given the chance to consider something else. Then she bit her lip in what I think is a universally spoken way of trying to dam up an emotion you might not want someone else to see.
Her answer was spoken much more softly than anything else in our conversation up to that point, and I could hear her voice trembling. The investigator translated:
“She says she would like to have children of her own and wishes she could have enough money to be there and watch them as they grow. But she knows that won’t happen. That’s why she stays here.”
Read more: http://dooce.com/2014/06/24/some-initial-thoughts-from-a-travel-addled-brain/#ixzz38FlaXKsx
I’m living her dream. She’s living a nightmare and I’m living her dream.
When I read this and let the gravity of it sink in, I realize a couple of things. First, for me to be ungrateful and discontent is a contemptible affront to the God who gifted me with this Rinse and Repeat life. And secondly, in a sense, I’m dishonoring that girl when I say, that dream may be good enough for you- but not for me.
We need to be so grateful for what God has gifted us with – this life that may seem so mundane, but in reality is truly a dream.
So, I’m going to ask you to do two things with me today. First, pause and thank God for the life that He has blessed you with, and second, pray for those girls whose dreams we’re living.