Why Your Title Feels Like it’s not Enough

“Oh…I’m…just a mom”, she replied.  Her fragile tone, her slightly uncomfortable smile, said more than her words did.  She knew there was more, on quiet days at home, in the right crowds and circles, but in this moment, with these people, it didn’t quite feel like enough.

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Marion Roach Smith, in one of my favorite books on writing, quips about her early feelings on being a writer.  Once at a cocktail party an astute guest asked her what she did for a living.  After informing him that she was a writer he mentioned that he too would like to be a writer, after he retires.

It wasn’t the first time she had heard those remarks and the exchange confounded her.  Why would she be just a writer, she wondered.  “…what was wrong with me that I was going to devote my whole life to writing, when clearly people who were smarter than I could put it off until they got around to it.” (The Memoir Project, 4)

But her confidence grew with time, with experience and achievement and now she handles such remarks with a question of her own.

“[Now] I reply, “And what do you do?”

And sometimes he says, “Oh, I’m a brain surgeon,” and that’s my favorite reply.

Then I can say, “When I retire, I’m going to become a brain surgeon,” with just a hint of sneer…”

 

Smith’s dialogue is just snarky enough to be funny and just honest enough to be real.  But her early sentiments echo that of the stay at home.  Underneath it all she is asking the same question, is my title enough?

Much has been said (possibly even too much?) about how mothers are the world changers, the foundation builders, the life givers. And the role is important, I’ll give you that.  But when we set our identity there, on motherhood, on our role as wives or our title at work, we are always left lacking.  Some days it just doesn’t seem like it’s enough.  And maybe, just maybe, it’s not.

Gold star metrics

I walked into my bedroom at the end of the day with all of the feelings of a good day’s work.  You knows those days, right?  The days when everything just goes smoothly.  Some days all the things go wrong, but some days they go right.

I had run kids to their activities and not become bossy and flustered.  They sailed through their piano lessons quite well.  (READ:  I wasn’t embarrassed by their lack of practice that week.  Let’s just go ahead and acknowledge that monster of pride that goes into one’s “successful” parenting at times.)  I went to work in the afternoon and attended a meeting afterward.  I was tired, but I wasn’t dead tired.  The day was a success and I was closing it all quite proud.

And then my mind drifted.

It would be nice if there was a paycheck for a day like this.  A bonus of some sort, maybe?  

I tested my thoughts out on my husband and half patronizingly he offered to pay me.

His offer held little appeal as his money is my money and this wasn’t really about money anyhow.  Money is simply the currency the world uses and thus the palpable reward that came to mind.  It could be a shiny gold star on a sticker chart.  My name on a reader board.  Whatever.  Just a little tangible evidence of a day done well.  That would be nice occasionally, don’t you think?

Because it all moves so rapidly here.

Tomorrow I may wake up and run out of patience before 8:00am.  Tomorrow I might be rushing, late and pushy.  One of the kids might just wake up with an attitude that rattles everything.  I might be ungrateful, impatient, unmotivated and wholly underserving of any gold star tomorrow, so can we please just have a moment for this day, right here, done well?

And then I realized just how much I attach my identity to this work here, to these good days.

What if bad days, messy days, hard days of discipline are really my best parenting days?  The days my kids get to see me as a human, broken and in need of forgiveness, growing and learning, just like them.  Could it be that I have gotten my performance and achievement, my gold star metrics, all backward?

Ann Voskamp strikes guilt in me, with the words in her latest book (amazing, by the way!). “The performing way of the world is about impressing people, about creating your own parade of accomplishments.  And the cruciform way of Christ is about letting the love of God and the needs of people impress and form you into a cross…”

Slow down.

Did you read that?  Do you believe that?  Because it’s true.

When I anchor my identity to my position in this world, I’m tethered to an undulating wave, but when I realize my true worth in Christ, I’m anchoring myself to the One who calms the seas.

Timothy Keller writes, “Sin is the despairing refusal to find your deepest identity in your relationship and service to God”.

I hate how hard this is some days, how easily I fall into this trap of believing my title is insufficient, my own “despairing refusal” to realize my true identity. Just a wife, just a woman, just a mom, just a beginner.  Fill in the blank.  We all have our own justs.

I’ve written about helping our children realize their true worth, but can we really do that if we aren’t firmly planted, bravely living that ourselves, friends?

When we are rooted in truth, we can stomp out those feelings before they even ignite.  We can replace lies with truth.  At the first fragile tone, the faintest uncomfortable smile, our reflexes can begin to remind us what we know to be true.

What is true, is this.

You are

…created in the very image of God.  Genesis 1:27.

…chosen and holy. 1 Peter 2:13.

…a child of God. John 1:12.

…His workmanship. Ephesian 2:10

…inscribed on the very palms of His hands. Isaiah 49: 15-16

 

What if we tried those titles on for size?  What if we woke up and stepped bravely in that knowledge, that truth?

Gloria Furman writes, “The highest aim of womanhood is not motherhood; the highest aim of womanhood is being conformed to the image of Christ.”

And we can just go right ahead and replace motherhood with every other title we’re chasing after, tagging ourselves with.  The highest aim of womanhood is not motherhood, or being a loving wife, an excellent employee and high achiever, a flawless leader, or a perfect friend.  The highest aim of womanhood is knowing our true identity and walking in it – it is being conformed daily to the image of Christ.

Don’t miss that or twist that, friends.  Don’t be distracted by the labels the world values.  We play by different rules.  We know Truth.  And your identity has long been decided.  It’s time we start living it.  Bravely.