My job is not a
glamorous one. It does not give me a corner office in a high class firm. The
hours are not 9-5, Monday to Friday, nor for that matter, is it a job with health benefits and
cash bonuses. It is none of those things.
In my job, all areas are grey, there is no
instruction manual, and the pay is not in conventional currency. The option
to quit or change jobs is not an option. Oh, and by the way, it does not allow time
for a lot of formal Torah learning, or set times for tefillah.
You might be
wondering where I am going with this. To me the ratzon of Hashem is, drum roll
please: parenting. The uniform for this job is sporting my husbands old
university t-shirts and a schleppy skirt, while I perform my holy task of
mothering. It means diaper changes, bottle-feeding and veggie cutting, kissing
booboos and playing dress up. Its providing a safe, nurturing environment for
these neshamos to blossom and grow.
Along with this great
responsibility that Hashem has generously bestowed upon me, comes my informal
requests - prayers and chatter throughout the day, and night. Please Hashem
make sure my Leah has a good day at school today Oy, Hashem these kids need
to get into bed now
help me Hashem please heal my baby and make him healthy
I am fortunate to have
the most important job in the entire world. The responsibility of raising these
children is mine. Before I conceived there was a conversation in the heavens
where these specific neshamos chose my husband and me, to be their Mommy and
Tatty. Hashem agreed that these neshamos needed us, and all we could provide,
as their parents. We were entrusted with the sacred task of raising these sweet,
beautiful children.
A job like this may
sound too lofty for a simple human being! Believe me when I say that I spend my
days bringing it down to a realistic level. The times when I am with my five-year-old
son in the supermarket as he chases our shopping cart with an armful of nosh
that he neeeds, or when I feel like I m at a political protest, which is actually
our nightly bedtime routine, or when I have just cleaned, and organized the
toys, and my children, with their great imaginations have dumped them all over
the floor preparing for their latest performance, I stop and take a deep breath and remind myself, this
is the foundation for great things. Ten years down the road what are these kids
going to remember? The performance they put on with Mommy cheering, or crazy lady
screaming about the chaos and mess?
I am not perfect, far
from it, just striving to see the bigger picture. There are lots of different
people in the world that have trained to do all kinds of jobs. Mechanics that
fix our cars and vans, how many of us can routinely do our own oil changes? Doctors
we see when we get sick. Seamstresses to sew beautiful gowns when we have
simchas and need something to wear. But every child has only one Mommy and
Tatty, and they are irreplaceable.
We all know who runs
the world. Nothing is by coincidence. So the next time you think you have
reached your limit, dear mother, remember this: You were created for this,
chosen for this. All these seemingly ordinary and mundane tasks are really holy
and extraordinary.