Do Christian working moms exist?

As I’ve mentioned before, it is sometimes difficult being a Christian working mom. Especially if your “working” profile, means more than putting in 15 hours a week as a cashier. The path I’ve chosen means working 50 – 60 hours a week and constantly being “on call”. I also wouldn't change what I do to stay at home. I was not wired for that role. Bottom line, I feel like I do not fit in with other Christian women.

Last night, I went to an all women service at church. The message was about priorities and aligning those with how the Bible commands that we live. In theory a pretty simple concept:
1) God
2) Family
3) Everything else

When the speaker asked how many people in the group (around 100 of us), work outside of the home, there were maybe 10 of us who raised our hands. I felt like a complete outcast. I don’t think any part of the message was intended to be condemning. But as the message continued, I also continued to feel less and less like I could be a good Christian woman because of my life style.

Complete with the self defeating voices in my head, I left the meeting feeling like a failure. No where in those priorities does “be the primary bread winner” fit into the picture.

If you take religion out of the mix, I think working moms still face the pressure of feeling like we have to be able to do it all. What’s worse is we’ve been conditioned that it is a sign of weakness to admit that we can’t possibly do it all.

But that cannot possibly be right.

So this has been on my mind all day. I believe I can love God and my family and still maintain a professional career. In fact, I see my career as my opportunity to help be a witness to other women who are struggling to do it all. The only way I am able to manage everything is by God’s grace.

And let me be very transparent here, I am not a perfect Christian. I have spent most of my adult life making some very big mistakes. But I know that I want to improve my life so I can be a better wife, mother, friend and leader. We all have to start somewhere. I just wish I had more role models and peer support along the way.

If you are reading this and are in a similar inward battle, I would love to hear how you make things work.

Working at the Sal

When I was in the eighth grade, I took on a non-traditional job. I became the pianist for The Salvation Army. Most people are unaware of the fact that The Sal is a church first and an outreach organization second. So, every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night, I went to my "job" playing the piano.

Over the years, my job duties increased. I helped in social services, prison outreach, nursing home and children ministries, the thrift store, bookkeeping, and eventually my first real job out of college would be at one of the divisional headquarters in disaster services.

But the one job that I held that is most vivid to me is that of bell ringer. Every year I am reminded of this position when the bell ringers come out in full force. It wasn't a paid position. I would help out when the "volunteers" did not show up for their duty or when there was just a shortage of help. I had seen first hand how the money from the bell ringing campaign was used and knew it was critical to our community support efforts.

I remember the first night I was out there ringing. At first, I thought I was going to lose my mind. The constant clang of the bell. The freezing cold wind. Virtually no one to talk to except for the occasional "thank you" and I do mean occasional. I pressed on for my three hour shift and then went home to my nice warm bed.

The next night, I started in with my clanging and went back into my trance. But this time, I started thinking about how few people that walk by actually drop money in the kettles. It was sad, maybe 1 in 20. Next, I did the math on how much money my kettle would bring in for the night if each person walking by dropped only a quarter. Just one quarter from each person that walked by that night would have made my kettle one of the top producers. But that's not what happened, I stood out there ringing away and got the occasional drop. Night after night, it was much of the same.

Now that I have kids, I want to make sure they understand the importance of giving back. Whether it be through their time (which we will do later this year), giving their toys away, or putting away some of their own money to give to someone in need.

This weekend we were out and saw the first bell ringers of the season. And this year is the first year the kids have both been old enough to truly understand what the kettles are all about. I was so proud of both of them for asking me for money to put into the kettle and even more so when they began telling me what the money would be used for.

Times are tough for all of us. I can almost guarantee that if you are reading this post you have felt the tough times. However, most of us do not know what it feels like to go to bed hungry or cold because we do not have electricity or a roof over our heads. Heck, most of us do not go a full week without ordering fast food at a drive thru. Think about that this year as you walk past those bell ringers. Dig in your purse or car seat for that extra change. Be radical and give up a meal out this week and give that money away. Somewhere, someone you will never know will receive that blessing.

How it all started...

First, I should get it out that I'm not the perfect parent nor have I ever claimed to be. I just passionately believe that if you're going to do it, you have got to do it right. There is no such thing as passive parenting in my book. Parents who park their kids in front of Baby Einstein videos or whatever happens to be on Toon Disney drive me bananas. You have got to be involved. That's where the magic happens.

My parenting journey started during a very tumultuous time during my life. Like many women, I got pregnant at an inconvenient time. It was at that point though, that I decided that my child was number one and I needed to make decisions in her best interest. Part of what led me to that decision may have been Divine Intervention.

In early January of 2003, I had recently divorced my husband. One night I had a dream that I was sitting in a rocking chair, holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. In the dream, he gave me a toggle bracelet with the date 9/22/03 engraved on one side. The next day I actually told him about the dream. Two weeks later, when I started vomiting consistently at 4 p.m. everyday, I knew my life was about to change forever. The doctor confirmed what I already knew to be true and said I was due on 10/13/03. Sure enough, on 9/22/03, my amazing Mooka (short for Mooka-Chooka-Latte another story for another day) came into my world and life has never been the same.

So back to making decisions. A and I talked and were committed to providing the best home for Mooka. A year after she was born, we remarried. To me it just seemed like the natural thing to do even though I knew it was going to be hard as hell. We had enough problems to divorce before a child; how could we possibly make it work now? The answer for me has been that before a child, I was selfish and had no interest in putting in effort to make something work. Our society is conditioned to take the easy out, which is exactly what we had done. Did we make the right decision? Who knows. A very wise friend once told me "There are no right or wrong decisions. There is YOUR decision and you make that one work." I cling to that philosophy often.

Today we have two amazing kids and wouldn't change a thing. Has it been easy - of course not. Do I ever doubt myself - of course. But this is my decision and I'm committed to making it work.