Jennifer Lea writes for jlogged.com, and is co-owner of 
In My Place
Today I complained about the amount of work I do around the house. I moaned about the constant battle between myself and the barrage of toys, dirty socks, forgotten plates of food in odd places, and other such things. Belly aching about the messes I am always cleaning up, but never seem to make. Then I went to the car wash and mumbled and grumbled about the popcorn spillage in the back seat, and smudges all over the windows. “A maid wouldn’t put up with this kind of treatment! She would quit or demand a raise” I exclaimed while feeling under appreciated and over worked.
We left the car wash and proceeded to the bank where our teller (an acquaintance from scouting) greeted us with a smile that did not reach her eyes as I blabbed on about what the boys planned to dress up as for Halloween. Her small voice cracked as she spoke through the teller mic that “it was a year last week.” Jennifer you fool! How could you forget? This woman lost her only son, a three year old, last year and here you are going on about your children as you failed to remember that she is still mourning her loss.
I stammered my sympathies, and sincerely ached for her. Her pain was almost tangible. I prayed for her strength with tears in my eyes as I drove off.
God, thank you that I woke up with a lollipop tangled in my hair, and a messy house. Thank you for the smudged car window from sticky little hands. Thank you that I have so many blessings in my life that I, by all rights, do not deserve.
Thank you for putting me in my place.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
October 31st, 2007 at 7:44 pm
Amen. We so easily forget.
November 1st, 2007 at 9:48 am
What a great lesson - so sad though. Perspective and gratitude make such a difference in how we see our lives.
My mom sent me one of those cheesy forwarded emails the other day that I actually liked for once. It said among other things the author was thankful for, thank you for the teenager who is complaining, because it means she is home with me and okay.
November 3rd, 2007 at 9:24 am
okay, that made me tear up a little.
I often feel selfish when complaining about my children to women who suffered from infertility and have had to make peace without them.
I once heard a speech about a woman who would complain about her husband’s dirty socks. Then she was widowed and would have traded her right eye to be able to pick up just one more dirty sock.
That said, I quit cleaning like I used to because A) no one around here appreciated the cleaner house and B) My main function around here is NOT to be the Maid.
Want a cleaner house? Be a cleaner person and pick up after your own self - I am NOT the maid!