Beloved

Our worth is not dependent on what we do.

This is a lesson God has been trying to teach me for quite awhile.  In the six years since I stopped teaching, I have had to answer this one hated question over and over again.  In American culture it seems to come as way of introduction.  We exchange names and then we ask, “What do you do?”  I have never enjoyed answering stay-at-home-mom.  It is a high calling and one of the things I’m most proud of in my life.  And yet, I still dread the question.  Especially now that my kids are all in school.

It feels like such an awkward and wasteful thing.  Here I sit with a Masters Degree in education, a dual certification in English and social studies, and natural teaching ability.  While all around me, schools are scrambling to find qualified teachers to fill their classrooms.  What am I doing?

The truth is, I only stopped teaching because I was certain God had promised that there was other important work for me to do.  In hindsight, maybe he was talking about mothering my kids while they were young.  Or maybe He meant more of an inner journey kind of thing.  It’s even possible that He has some other purpose for me, and I just don’t know it yet.

I am a passionate, creative, contemplative, learner/writer/teacher.  Made by the hand of God.  For a purpose.

But my identity and worth is not dependent on what I do.

Last Spring I experienced a ‘neurological event,’ which caused my right eye to go crossed.  The resulting double vision caused terrible headaches and confusion. Overnight I became someone who couldn’t use a computer for more than a couple minutes.  Someone who couldn’t focus on a person’s face to have a conversation.  Someone who couldn’t even read books.

While I waited for doctor appointments and test results, I did what any (ir)rational person would do.  I spent the little brain capacity that I had worrying.  Sometimes I worried about the physical danger I was in.  But more often I worried about who I would be if I could never read or write or teach again.

One night, unable to sleep and unable to read myself back to sleep, I was listening to an audiobook by John Eldredge.  In it, he told a story about becoming excessively angry when rain canceled his plans for a long day of work on his family’s ranch.  Stranded on the porch, with nothing else to do, he found himself praying. Soon he was talking to God about the life-long struggle of feeling that his worth was tied to his productivity.  God’s response to him was the reassurance that even if John could one day do nothing at all, he would still have His favor.

I desperately needed the reminder of God’s favor that night. So now I pass it along to you:

You and I are not what we do.

We are the beloved children of the Most High God. 

And we have His favor.