| A JOYFUL HOUSEWIFE I love that name ~ housewife. Let's say it again: "HOUSEWIFE". Since childhood in England, I have always referred to any woman at home, married, with or without children as a housewife. I am a housewife, my momma is a housewife. Most of my aunts were housewives. Praise the Lord for housewives! The world doesn't use the term 'housewife' anymore. It's derogatory. The names 'home executives', 'housepersons', 'homekeepers' or 'domestic executives' are the preferred titles for women who stay at home. When the Lord called me home, with my children, for my family, He changed my heart in so many ways. I don't need to expand on about what I was like, my old self. Let's just say 'opposite' to what I am and continually strive to be now! The biggest change, and most awesome for me was the desire to cook, bake, sew, make. Oh, there were also many general attitude changes, too. However, I believe wholeheartedly, that these changes, these new heart desires are due to my learning God's Word; His masterplan, which convicts me to obey His instruction and be a keeper at home. A housewife. I still find cooking, baking, sewing and making a laborious act. These new (but desirous) challenges don't come easy to me. I enjoy them, but have to concentrate so hard, as I am 'partaking' of them. I have had to teach myself, and sometimes have enlisted the services of a teacher to show me the basics. Whatever I learn, I then teach my own daughters. It is a joy to watch them, both confident and competent in the crafts and skills I have taught them. I know that they consider me their hero, and whatever I do, they will surely copy. This acknowledgement impresses upon me the importance to do the Lord's will. This is part of my service to God. Being a housewife I am ever learning. Because my attitude has changed, housework, which I once called 'drudgery', isn't drudgery anymore. Each task, each chore, when done as if the Lord is there, with His hands in the soapy dishwater, with His hands around the mop handle, with His hands cleaning the mould off the bathroom tiles, with His hands sorting the ever-messy tuppaware cupboard, - right next to me, doesn't seem so burdensome. Instead of bemoaning the woes of domestic workload, I choose to get each task done, step by step. Instead of giving up when things go wrong, I choose to learn the right way. Instead of seeing chores as mundane, I now see the humour in each of them. And so - when the children see me, hands full of cloths, brooms, pans, buckets and caddies, they know that I'm not taking the bus and going on the 'Summer Holiday' that Cliff Richards sings about. They smile at their Mrs Moppit Mama, push open the bathroom door, and watch me perform the 'white lightening lickover'. Joyfully His housewife, Helen |