His

We live in a home built in 1926, so to say there is an endless amount of work to be done is an understatement. However, over time, we have chipped away at the list, and for that I am thankful. This year alone, we have installed a new garage door to match the one next to it, and replaced an oddly-shaped back door that serves as our family's main entrance. This morning, a gentleman visited to provide an estimate for new carpeting in the den. What was once a white carpet, is now an assortment of one hundred different stains in a shade I refer to aptly as “dirty.” A white carpet with eight children was never going to survive for very long.

His business card was creative: under his name was listed, "comedian, writer, consumer of fine sandwiches." I chuckled and asked him more about himself, to which he in reply asked me what I did for a living. I was folding mountains of laundry as he generated carpet installation quotes, so I found his question ironic. My job is (clearly) the full time care of eight little ones. Yet, I was feeling confident and replied, “I'm at home full time with my children... but I'm also a writer.” 

I was so proud of myself. I often struggle defining who I am apart from my favorite job of raising incredible humans. I have written curriculum for a ministry called Replanted for over five years now, and have been paid for doing this the past two years. I have written over 480 blog posts, and am forty-seven pages into a book of devotional essays for adoptive and foster parents. I AM a writer! And a Mom. And a Replanted Leader. And a workout enthusiast. And a lover of books. 

BUT…

Dear Saint, while I applaud myself for telling the stranger I met today that I am a writer, I am perplexed by my need to justify myself to others. To come up with titles. If I were merely a mom, that would be enough. If I were merely a wife and sister and daughter, that would be enough. If it were just me, that would be enough.

Rest in your enoughness today. Your Heavenly Father delights in you - just as you are. You have worth and dignity and contribute immeasurably to your family, community and society - simply by being you. My daughter Maria may never leave the four walls of our home. She may never work. She may simply be our Maria all her life, and Jesus looks at her with great affection. She is enough the way she is, and you are enough the way you are. 

There is often a very fine line between too much humility and too much pride. Perhaps the simplest answer lies in looking to Jesus and defining ourselves as He does: simply as His.