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Women At Work?

Anyone who is aware of the work faithful wives and mothers do for their families realizes how totally ridiculous it is to ask a mother, any real mother, "Do you work?" Does a mother work? That's like asking is the pope Catholic or does a bear live in the woods or does a bird fly or does a duck swim. Whether she works outside the home or exclusively inside it, godly mothers are some of the hardest working people on earth. This may be the reason someone defined summer camps as the place little boys go for mother's vacation! The Bible, in its beautiful and unparalleled tribute to ideal womanhood in Proverbs 31, describes a woman whose work is quite literally from sun-up to sun-down and then some. Verse 13 tells us "she willingly works with her hands." Verse 15 describes an early-bird who "rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household." And verse 18 indicates a hard-working woman whose household duties sometimes demands she burn the midnight oil — "her lamp does not go out by night." Paul Faulkner writes of remembering an experiment a professor did in his class. First he described the following scene: A man comes in the front door and sees his wife standing at the kitchen sink. The sink is stopped up, the soup is boiling over, one child is on her hip and another screaming child has pulled her shorts down to her knees. Then the professor asked the men in the class, "What would you do?" Almost in unison they said, "Ask if there was anything we could do to help." The women then responded in unified disgust, "Kill the guys!" Faulkner concludes that in the women's estimation, "the men shouldn't have to ask what needs doing, it should be evident. Somehow, women are able to see and feel what needs doing and move in that direction" (Raising Faithful Kids in a Fast Paced World, pp 100-101).

Let me squeeze in a marvelous little piece of anonymous prose entitled My Magic Day that reminds us mothers are women at work and that we ought to thank God for them a lot more often than most do.

      Pots 'n pans and dishpan hands and
      Wrinkles by the score;
      Three meals a day I'm cooking
      Which frankly is a chore.
      Dirty dishes, dirty clothes
      With rings around the tub;
      Dusty furniture, messy floors
      That I'm supposed to scrub!
      Drive the children to the school,
      Then go and pick them up,
      And referee their fighting,
      Till I'm a bloody pulp!
      The sink stops up, overflows;
      I use the stove with care
      Since a shorted wire on a coil
      Just all but curled my hair!
      Raced wildly to the grocery store
      With my budget a total wreck;
      A car backed out into my rear
      And all but broke my neck!
      My husband arrives exhausted;
      My daughter flunked a test.
      The dog bit Mike, The bird got loose
      And they think I've had a rest!
      My mother-n-law cut me down,
      The pot roast burned to a crisp;
      Now vows made on our wedding day
      Never mentioned a bit of this!
      Then I get a greasy kiss, a gentle hug,
      Laughter wipes away my frown,
      And I realize as I always do
      That I'm the luckiest one around!

Dan Gulley
Smithville church of Christ