Most days, well everyday, if Im really being honest, I feel completely incapable. I cannot get everything done of which is expected of me. The dishes, the looming laundry, the beds getting made up, the floors which seem to dirty themselves. The list is ever growing. The house seems daunting. It is always dirty, there is always something that needs to be done. I sacrifice the time to homeschool, but feel guilty because the bathroom rugs didnt get shaken out. What is this life really about? Finally I came to my knees. I broke down in my bathroom, palms against the walls holding myself up as I sobbed uncontrollably. I prayed over and over again, What is the point?! I will never get it done, more will always be expected, and I will never do it right. What is the point? Quickly I grabbed a wet wipe and vigorously started cleaning the sink. I got it clean, then had to do it again to wipe off my mascura stained tears away. I had just been confronted by someone with my poor house keeping skills. Didnt they know? How could they not know? They said "With a little effort you could keep the house and cars clean." So matter of factly. So simply. Just a little effort. I turned to the shower and ripped the curtains back, got on my knees and started scrubbing the tub. Just a little effort?! I have put all of my strength into being a homemaker. To cleaning, to being a mother, to taking care of my husband. It drains all my strength from me. I have premature arthritis because of it. The tears kept coming, I was having a hard time keeping quiet so no one would know that mommy was breaking down in the bathroom, loosing her mind. I prayed again, harshly, God, Whats the point?! Why even try?! Why have you called me to do this if everyone thinks I could be doing more. No one sees all that I do. No one gives me credit for doing the things that zaps all my strength. My stomach ached. All I have wanted was even on my worst days, when nothing got done, when no one was dressed and the dishes piled in the sink, to say, "I'm proud of you". I'm so tired of having to earn other people's pride and respect, and teetering on the edge of falling over with one little thing being wrong.
"Oh, God, Daddy, why cant I do anything right? Why did you only give me two hands?"

This all happened a few days ago, and the feelings are still there, strong. But I have spent a lot of time with Jesus. Maybe the only reason why I cannot do anything right is so I will constantly need God's Grace, like oxygen. Maybe the reason why is so that in all my efforts, few and as little as they amount to, is to give God the glory.

Im sure I am not the only mother who has broken down in the bathroom, drowning in everything. That fact alone gives me hope, and reminds me that in everything I do, I do for the glory of God. And he rewards what is done in secret.