Skip to main content

What is valued? What is valuable?

I agreed to present at Mother's Group on Tuesday. When I read the selected base text, to me it said, "God is in the details." To me, that meant, no matter how big or small, everything you do can be a contribution.

I've thought a lot about this lately, on many fronts. After Hurricane Katrina and the floods devastated so much of my Gulf Coast neighbors' communities, I didn't even hesitate before springing into action. I knew it could have been me, and I knew what needed to be done. Evacuees immediately began arriving in my town and we quickly mobilized our community to provide food, housing, and resources. People are the most valuable valuable resource. Therefore, I felt the need to do more than simply donate (as valuable as that is), and was fortunate to be in a position where I could also give of myself as well. I solicited, sorted and distributed donations, and volunteered for the Red Cross at an area shelter.

I got to know the people behind the stories, and their situations became as personal to me as my own. When they cried, I choked back tears. When an aquaintance's mother---who due to illness was stuck in New Orleans---passed away because help came too late, I cried too. I felt a powerful responsibility to help them get everything they needed.

When FEMA and the Red Cross decided to close area shelters and consolidate evacuees (as if they were simply a commodity, simply cattle) and I saw these people feel angry, scared, devastated, powerless, hopeless, frustrated, sad, and worse, watched the traumatized children cry, I felt grief and anger. I did whatever I could to help as many people as I could and then had to sit back and watch the rest get shuttled away.

When the dust settled, I felt a tremendous emptiness and frustration. Now what could I do?

Because I am a mother with young children, I have limitations; my children need me too. Working locally was one thing; however, there was no way I could drive an hour to the big shelter and work a six hour shift.

What could I do?

I could continue to solicit, sort and distribute donations. I dug right down to the bottom of my heart and asked, "Is it enough?"

And once again, I was faced with the million dollar question I have faced many times since becoming a mother, "How do I balance outside needs with what my family needs of me?"

If I didn't contribute in a large way---such as going to the big shelter---was my contribution valuable? Was I valuable? What is valued?

I see mothers asking this question time and again, with regard to their daily lives, work (or not), volunteering (or not), and everything they do (or don't do).

I began my presentation by commenting that although I'm sure, as mothers, superachiever women have stayed up all night to clean up and care for a vomiting child, that isn't what makes the news. Becoming a space shuttle commander, or a Supreme Court Justice, is what makes the news. But does that make the un-newsworthy happenings not valuable?

I don't think so.

Every floor we sweep, box of clothes we give away to a friend with a child smaller than ours, shoulder we offer to a friend, child we hug, joke we laugh at...it is all valuable.

As with the donations, every little thing adds up and does minister to---care for---those around us.

It doesn't matter whether you are a mother who works or who stays home. It doesn't matter whether today you were nominated for an award or got a piece of paper from your daughter who wrote her name for the first time.

What matters is that every day, in some way, big or small, we contribute. And that is valuable.

By Julie Pippert
Museum Quality Digital Art and Photography
Limited Edition Prints
Artful by Nature Fine Art and Photography Galleries
The Golden Orchid: Original and Unique Wearable Art

© 2005. All images and text exclusive property of Julie Pippert. Not to be used or reproduced.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Restaurant Trauma in Texas: How eating out prompted a really uncomfortable lesson about culture

WARNING: This is NOT a family-friendly post, aka the warning I WISH I'd gotten yesterday before I walked in. Yesterday was a Holiday. I hope you heard the scare quotes around that. Yeah, when you are an adult here is how holidays work: you, same workload as always, kids WOO HOO NO SCHOOL FREEDOM. Do the equation. The result is the day I had yesterday. If math isn't your strong suit I'm pretty sure you can still add that up but just in case let's say the highlight of the afternoon included me dumping out the mismatched sock basket and telling the children to have at it, in a way very reminiscent of Miss Hannigan of Annie . Anyway luckily I've taught my kids that Chores are Fun! and they had a good time. Later, I cranked up the fun-o-meter on a bank errand by dropping in the Halloween store to check out costumes, and upped the ante on "Mom needs new running shoes" by tacking on a "Hey let's eat out at a restaurant!" My husband was able to join ...

If I Could Talk To Him One More Time, Today (a Monday Mission)

This is part of the Monday Mission. We're to leave a voice mail. Check out Painted Maypole's spot for more... "Hi...umm...Mitch? It's Julie, Julie from high school. I doubt you remember me; we only knew each other for about five minutes. You mowed our lawn a few times, dated my friend's sister, and were in my AP English class senior year. That's why I'm calling---about what you did in the English class. It made a lasting impression, really made a difference in my life. That probably sounds dramatic but it's true. You see, I'd spent a lot of years being the kid who fell through the cracks in school. I think by high school I'd gotten tired of being the good enough and compliant student. Senior year, I was one inch from dropping out, and I probably would have if I'd had the guts or I thought my parents would let me get away with it. Instead, I just created a lot of unnecessary sturm and drang for myself, and cut school so much that by the end ...

Me Talk Big One Day (A Hump Day Hmm for 2-20-2008)

Image source and story of image: National Galleries of Scotland If you were to ask me, I'd tell you that I tend to say things other people dare not say. I speak my mind. I don't always coat my words with a generous dollop of ass kissing. Many people consider averted eyes, swallowed words, and sugar coating their due. Skipping this is perceived as disrespectful. It never quite got me to bite my tongue, though, even at times I perhaps should have. I was bold, arrogant, and defensive about this, as the youth often are about their immaturity. But as I entered my mid-thirties and beyond, I began noticing a disturbing pattern: a tendency to swallow my words and sugarcoat. Was this maturity? Wisdom? Or was it a desire to please? Was I tired and worn down? I sat down and looked backwards--- Russo-style , through the opposite end of the telescope---and tried to figure out if I'd ever been as bold out loud as I was in my mind. Was I? Had I been? Could I be? Should I? I believe I was...