Why I do what I do: a half-decent explanation

"Swimming upstream can be very tiring." (Me, today)

About a year ago someone I know told me and a room full of people that he believed the meaning of life to be the quantity and quality of one's leisure time. I was flabbergasted, to say the least. I also wanted to say, "What a load of crock!", but I knew that my husband might not appreciate such a wifely outburst. (Yes, I am prone to outbursts, feet planted firmly in my mouth and regular apologies to those near and dear. I am about as far from angelic sweetness as George W. is from Mr. Obama. This distance is only lengthened by the end of a pregnancy.)

But back to the meaning of life. At the time of the above statement I really was at a loss for words and, fortunately, I was able to see that words would have been lost on this person anyway. Especially mine.

After all, I don't think that my life appeals to him in the slightest. It is certainly not about leisure - neither quantitatively or qualitatively. Relatively speaking (and I have one eye on the squalidly poor who literally break their backs just to survive), this life of little children with very real needs of the physical, emotional and spiritual sort is a heck of a lot of hard work.

Days are long, nights are sometimes longer and I experience exhaustion at pretty even intervals throughout the day. Do I sometimes feel like throwing in the proverbial towel?

What do you think?

I was particularly frustrated yesterday after spending the morning at the park watching very affluent families with very minimal children doing their vacation thing. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't frustrated so much with their near childlessness or their need to accommodate such childlessness in the van of my dreams. No, I was more upset with my inability to lucidly and convincingly express why I have chosen this life with four little ones and a fifth on the way. (Not to mention an aging Grand Caravan.)

Because, mark my words, I chose it. And, moreover, I don't regret it in the slightest. I am not lying or sugar-coating when I say that I have no desire to be back at work or that I don't feel that my talents are wasted here at home. I have purpose and that conquers all exhaustion and frustration. (A good laugh or cry also help.)

As Jen from Conversion Diary so eloquently wrote:

"When I heard the Catholic notion that each of us has a vocation, and that it's not about what you'll do as whom you'll serve, it sounded outrageous. Insane even. In this worldview, living for yourself is not a valid option -- regularly taking time for yourself, yes; but structuring your life around selfish pursuits, no. It went against everything I believed. It seemed to even go against common sense."

As Jen said, I can still pursue times of relaxation and leisure. I daily take time for exercise sans children, I maintain an afternoon quiet time in which I rest and pray and the children know that these things are necessary for mommy. Dave and I try to get out on dates and he works really hard at lessening my load here at home. I also read, write, blog, watch meaningless television and enjoy good conversation with equally tired but purposeful friends.

But, I hope that the overarching purpose of my life is one of service: a life seemingly thrown away for the good of others. In my third year of university I had a history professor who scoffed at Mother Theresa: "What sort of a life is that? One thrown away in the streets!" His own words stand in judgement of their speaker. I hope that my life does not stand in judgement of me. In fact, I take great solace in the words of my spiritual director, a very wise Madonna House priest: Pour yourself into this family of yours - they are the ends of the earth.

Now, am I always successful? No. Am I even always faithful? Certainly not. But I keep trying. And, as my husband continually reminds me, the Christian life is about falling down and getting back up.

My life is one of trying to live out a vocation to marriage and family - a calling to pour myself out for my husband and children. It sounds like foolishness and it probably looks that way as well. But, I don't resent it. I have a husband who does the same and we hope that our children will one day choose a path of self-sacrifice rather than one of self-service. I pray that we don't raise children who feel that they are entitled to the good life. I pray that we impress upon them that one can seek times of leisure but that one's life must not be centred around the selfish pursuit of leisure. I pray that they too, one day, feel exhausted but fulfilled because they are living their lives against the current.

It certainly ain't perfect but this life is filled with purpose and meaning and, strangely, a deep sort of peace.