"Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies...
Her children rise up and call her blessed.
Her husband also, and he praises her...
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing.
But a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised."
Proverbs 31:10, 28, 30
Her name is Ruby. I am sure you have seen her. She is always well-groomed, hair looks perfect, manicured nails and toenails, stylishly dressed and made-up. Her children are well-behaved. Her car is washed, and her house is immaculate. She works full time but never fails to make it to her children's ballgames. She never raises her voice and seems to have it all together. Do you know her? I used to think I did.
I have been a wife now for almost nineteen years and a mother for more than fifteen. I remember what I thought about both positions before I ever attained them. I thought I knew it all. I was badly mistaken. I quickly realized that marriage and parenting are tough, and that there are no text book answers--no matter how many self-help books you read.
Still, I would look around and find so many women who appeared, well, perfect. In the early years they were the skinny wives who sat around the table at the company Christmas party talking about their careers. Later it became the women at MOPS whose two-year-olds were potty trained, whose toddlers never threw tantrums and whose older kids never talked back. As my boys grew older, it became the wives who walked into church looking like they had just stepped out of a salon, the mothers who refused to feed their children processed food, the families whose children sat completely still at the ballgames. Perfect--that's what I thought. They were perfect, and I wondered how in the world they ever got that way?
Of course, somewhere down deep, I knew they really weren't. I mean, no one is. But still, at least on the surface, that's the way it felt to me. They had it all figured out, and somehow, I was still in the dark. I mean, I was--still am--so far off base.
As with all Moms, I gained weight during my pregnancies. Unfortunately, though, I just kept gaining. Most days, I do good to get a bath and brush my teeth. The headband is my favorite hair accessory, and I even sport it on Sunday morning sometimes. (They come in a wide variety of styles you know). I am somewhat less than a fashionista and wonder if I, like my boys, am not just a tad color blind. I tend to favor comfort over looks. I tried a manicure--once. Literally, I messed it up looking for my keys before I even got out of the parking lot, and believe me, make-up is overrated.
Every year for as many years as I can remember, I have made a New Year's Resolution to lose weight and to feed my family healthier meals. I tried reducing processed and fast foods, getting rid of sodas and chips, eating more fruits and vegetables, etc. etc. It doesn't last long. As soon as we are in a time crunch and running from one ball game to the next, we wind up grabbing burgers or hotdogs and chips.
My children, God bless them, don't behave perfectly. They have been known to fight--with each other and with others. I tried forbidding toy guns when Sjon-Paul was little. He cut one out of paper. I took it away. While I was pushing him through the grocery store in the cart, he pulled out his finger "gun" and "shot" a passerby--"bang, bang!" I have had one boy ride his bike into the middle of the street and one to ride a dirtbike through a fence. I have had one lock the stall doors in the church bathroom, and more than one to try crawling under the pews. I have had one that loved throwing public temper tantrums and who was completely defiant at home. Just today, one of my lovely boys, yelled at the neighbors walking across our lawn. He said, "My Momma doesn't like you walking through our yard!" I finally got to meet the neighbors when I hauled him over there to apologize!
Our house is loud and unruly. The boys scream, and I scream back. I often have to yell if I want to be heard. My discipline techniques would definitely not merit a Best Parenting Award, and I am, unfortunately, inconsistent in my enforcement of the household rules--although I certainly don't intend to be.
So, I admit it. I am not a perfect wife. I am not a perfect parent. I am not a perfect person. Why do I tell you all of this? It is, after all, very discouraging. After all, my primary mission at this time of my life is to be a Godly wife and mother. So, if I am making all these mistakes, then I must be a complete failure. It can definitely be depressing.
But, I have learned a couple of lessons over the years that help me keep on keeping on. One thing I know now is that those perfect women...they aren't real. The "Ruby" that is described in Proverbs 31, well, she is what we are aiming for, but there isn't one of us who has gotten there yet. You see, a number of years ago, I decided to stop looking at those "perfect" women from afar and started trying to get to know them. And you know what? I found out very quickly that, like me, they have strengths and they have weaknesses, but not one of them is perfect. One of my formerly "perfect" friends once told me, "Tricia, I find that I can only do one thing well at a time. If my house is clean this week, then homeschooling is probably not going so good. If we have a good schooling week, then my house is probably a wreck." Wow! She's human--just like me.
The other thing that I have been pondering on as of late revolves around a question. How do I really want my children to remember me when they are grown or I am gone? I guess it would be nice if they remembered a "saintly" mother. But, then again, I don't know.
I have always said I wouldn't have a "parlor" or "sitting room." No matter how big a house I owned I would always want it to be lived in, a "real" house , a house that was used. I guess, in a way, I think the same about my role as a wife and a mother. Since no one is really perfect, is that really the way I want to be perceived? Does it do anyone any good for me to "appear" something that I am not? Or do I want to be a "real" Mom, an imperfect one, yes, but one that is "used" and part of my family's lives.
You see, I don't mind if my husband knows my faults, as long as he loves me anyway. And I don't mind if my children remember that I was their biggest critic, as they also remember that I am their biggest fan. I don't mind that they know I sometimes get angry with them, as long as they know that I have spent just as many times laughing and crying with them. I don't care if they don't always like me, as long as they always know I am there for them. And I guess it's okay if my children remember that I lost my cool with them sometimes--as long as they remember all the times that I said, "I'm sorry" and "I love you."
It's okay if they get angry that I don't always do the things that they want, as long as they think back to all the times I sat and read to them or cheered them on at a ball game or stayed up late to get ready for a birthday party or did without sleep to help take care of them when they were sick. It's okay if our house isn't always quiet. After all, it isn't a library or a museum. And it's okay if it isn't always immaculate and the meals aren't gourmet, as long as they still enjoy sitting down to a family dinner or inviting friends over for a visit.
It's alright if my husband and my children know that I am not perfect. After all, they aren't perfect either are they? Maybe they can learn from my failures, or they can see that it's okay to mess up sometimes as long as you don't quit trying. Maybe they will realize that being imperfect is part of being human and that our weaknesses and faults should only serve to push us closer to the Lord.
Would it be great for my husband and children to "rise up and call me blessed"? Yeah, I guess it would. But you know what? I would settle for less. Really, this not so perfect parent will be quite satisfied, if when my boys think of me, each can simply say, "My Mom loved the Lord, and she loved me."