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Saying The Truth Out Loud, Even When My Voice Shakes

I wrote this last year but wasn’t ready to hit publish… until now.

Leaving certain ways of thinking, living, and doing behind since moving off-grid has in many ways freed me from constraints I never knew I had and blind spots I simply could not see. It’s easier to see the messed up when you’re not in it but I don’t necessarily attribute that to homesteading, though that was one of the means.

It is the Lord who is truly merciful and long-suffering.

I have in many ways felt a vast confusion since we moved here. It has come and gone and touched various areas of my life and my surroundings but in no realm quite as strong as in my own identity. And to be honest, I didn’t really realize how confused I was in this area, not until recently… not really at all.

It began, I think, when homesteading seemed the thing we were supposed to do. It still is (one of those things) and we are still doing it, but it is not who we are and we may not even be doing it for the reasons you might think. I do believe it became too much of a focus for me personally and is still something too easy to make an idol out of.

Compounding the murkiness of my vision was the fact that I began to earn money writing for various outlets shortly after we moved here. I’d like to tell you that this was all seamless and worked out perfectly with zero confusion but that’s simply not true. It was a great help to our family, Stewart and I both believe, but like many of the decisions we’ve made over the past six years now, it’s not necessarily one we might make again, or even one we would say was done for the right reasons.

When I was in the deepest mire of that time, both in my workload and in my thinking, I wrote blog posts that would never be published. They reflected my struggles but were far too raw to send out into the internet. But to get a sense of things, I share this now – a piece I wrote in late 2012. I had to resist the urge to edit my own pain and ensuing sarcasm out of it now that I read it years later.


We’re All Working Mothers… But Now I’m The Broken Kind

The sun is setting on the horizon as I drive home. The only thing in the van to keep me company are baskets of laundry and the brown paper bags of groceries I picked up on the way home. It is quiet and it is blissful, as any Mama knows, but still I am impatient as I turn onto our county road paved only with gravel.

It is halfway down that winding dusty road that I begin to panic. My heart races and I drive faster as I try to keep the tears at bay. It is 7:30 p.m. and I realize that, for the first time in my six-and-a-half years of motherhood, I am in danger of missing goodnight hugs and kisses… because I am working elsewhere.

I feel completely devastated.

****

We are in the cabin, my girl and I. Her Daddy works in his office, which is a fancy term for this weird shelf-come-desk that he sits at with a stiff plastic chair atop our bed. He is wrapping his freelance work up, placing the mouse in my backpack as I finish getting into my town clothes.

Suddenly Annabelle is inconsolable. She is pulling, tugging at my skirt with a whine that is beyond the usual “I’m tired/feed me”. This is a fearful whine. A please don’t abandon me whine. A why are you doing this to me whine.

She has figured out that if Mama puts on her town clothes then Mama is leaving her for at least a few hours, sometimes more. I have given my one year old only daughter a complex… and it feels as though I can’t breathe.

****

Breakfast is done, the dishes are somewhat clean, and I stand in the cabin packing up supplies – my notebook, the laptop, cords, and what not. Papa holds onto his girl as she watches me, that complex in full force as I turn towards her and she whines.

Then she reaches her pudgy little fist out to grab me as I say good-bye and she lets out the smallest of cries. I cry now too, streaming tears at first, then breath-catching sobs and I try not to look at her too closely. It hurts. It hurts so much.

Something in me has broken; something I have tried to hold together for a very, very long while has now shattered into what feels like a million pieces.

I am a working mother. I don’t feel that title is worth much, so let me explain…

Every parent is a working parent. It is the hardest kind of gut-wrenching, terrified-of-failing, there-is-no-going-back, there-are-no-re-dos, you-can’t-call-in-sick kind of work.

But now I also work at earning the money that is building our homestead and, Lord willing, bringing us closer to not needing that money. It is what it is and I am thankful for the opportunities we have been given to work independently.

It is also the most guilt-inducing experience I have ever had.

When I get home late from spending the afternoon writing in town and I serve up a meal that is quick, but less than ideal, I feel guilty. When I leave my babies in very loving and capable hands so I can catch up on my work, I feel guilty. When school time is cut short because Mama has to meet a deadline and why don’t y’all go out and help your papa, I feel guilty.

To be fair, though, I was never the woman who “wanted it all” in the so-called mommy wars, if by “all” they mean a ladder-climbing career along with a perfectly groomed family and plenty of free time.

Honestly, I’d be happy to just find a matching pair of toddler socks and go out in public without looking like I moonlight as a three year old in a mud puddle… who ate french fries for lunch and then wiped the fry daddy out with the whole front of me.

Clearly I don’t believe there is anything wrong with a woman working to earn money. I have been blessed with some opportunities to do so… and I’ve always wanted to help take part of that burden off the shoulders of my husband… and he is way more productive on homestead projects than I could ever be… so it makes sense and it’s a decision we both came to the conclusion of…

But I’m guessing that thing in me that knows no one ever wishes they worked away from home and family more; that knows there are some things you just can’t get back; that knows no matter how much rationalizing the common sense part of me tries to do, I really should just be with my babies; I doubt it thinks in terms of what makes sense.

I’m also guessing it’s in every mother, in one form or another, whether she’s waiting tables, changing diapers, or clicking away on her laptop.

And I’m just really, really hoping that thing, whatever it is, knows how to put itself back together.


That little girl in my story above is now six and walks beside me as we cook and clean and garden. In many respects she is more adept at these things than I am. From time to time she will reference “those times you went to the library” but she mostly seems to remember the time she made pie with Daddy (when I was working) or the day she helped the boys with the goats (when I was working). It really hasn’t impacted her, not the way it has impacted me, but that wasn’t really the point of the story so I will move on…

One of our neighbors disclosed to me recently that he was reading Traditionally Fermented Foods. Since the book came out, I have fully struggled with how to respond to people when they (very kindly) bring it up. I have a heavy streak of social awkwardness as it is and I’m sure this is just frosting on the cake for these well-meaning individuals who are all too familiar with my social inadequacy.

I haven’t read the book myself, not since I read it and rewrote it half a dozen times before submitting the final manuscript. I don’t really expect anyone to have it on their shelves… unless you are my Dad and you keep buying out Barnes & Noble in Duluth, Minnesota where they are probably really starting to wonder why you need twenty copies of a book on fermentation.

(I love you, Dad!)

But I have really appreciated hearing from those who are making recipes and have questions or simply share my own fervor for fermentation. It’s been a blessing to our family in so many ways and I am grateful for so much support in this endeavor.

In talking with our neighbor, he had some questions about what the aerobic vs. anaerobic ferments are and other kind of geeky fermentation things I find fascinating. In this seemingly mundane conversation, two fairly remarkable things happened, for me at least. The least of the two was that I realized why I am uncomfortable talking about the book – or any other paid work I do, really. I will be getting to that in a moment. The most remarkable thing hearkens back to the time I wrote We’re All Working Moms… But Now I’m The Broken Kind. It’s funny how clarity can come after four-and-a-half years and on the heels of something seemingly so benign…

You are a chemist,” he said warmly, kindly even. “No,” was my instantaneous reply, perhaps a little too instinctive. I hope I didn’t sound defensive, though I might have now that I think about it. It came out of nowhere, that response of mine, but it came from somewhere very, very deep and somewhat covered in scar tissue after the clarity of it all.

I do not identify myself with the four years I spent in college or the piece of paper I received at the end or the work I might have done for a company when I contributed more to our income. Even though my name is on the cover of a book or two, I don’t consider myself an author or a cookbook writer or someone with a career. And though I spend a great deal of time either getting my hands dirty growing food, or cleaning up after the preparation of homegrown food, I don’t even think of myself as a homesteader really, though this last one might be more readily identifiable in my daily life.

I do all of those things, some of them daily and some of them periodically, but I am none of these things.

I am a Christian; a follower of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; an unworthy member of His blood-bought Church. He is all that I am and I am made whole in Him and absolutely nothing means anything to me, outside of Him.

The Lord has bought me with a price, so I am His and my days belong to Him and His Kingdom and His glory. I am not a Chemist or a Writer or an Author or even a Homesteader. Because the Lord  has, in His infinite mercy, given me a husband I do not deserve and five souls more precious than any earthly gifts, He has also made my path of duty clear.

So my reply that day, to this neighbor whom we love, was said with a smile, a baby on my hip, and not just a little relief. I didn’t realize that I knew this somehow all along though I couldn’t articulate it; I didn’t realize how much clarity would be brought by the simple act of saying these four words out loud. But say them I did, because it is the truth and because it could be no other way.

“No, I’m a Mommy.”

There was no question mark or apology or even adding of the word “just” as I have so many times before. My voice shook a little, because rarely do I counter something in a conversation, but even more so because it was absolutely, wholeheartedly the truth and in saying those words out loud, I finally knew them.

Our loving neighbor had no idea what the Lord was working in my heart and life in that conversation; the healing that can only come from Him and the mercies He gives abundantly through various means and vessels. And what a mercy it has been, in the months since that exchange, to have clarity after my own self-imposed murkiness.

Especially since, Lord willing, we will welcome a sixth sweet little one to our family by the end of this summer.

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28 Comments

  1. Shannon, I really enjoyed this post, and I appreciate you sharing your raw feelings here. I can certainly relate to what you have written. I too, went away to work when my first was young and I too, felt overwhelming guilt…yet it took me a few more years to understand that I was a mother first and everything else came second. Our culture really does not embrace that idea. It’s seen almost as shameful and “a waste” to devote our lives to our little ones. Yet despite my enthusiasm for motherhood, it took me until my late 30s (I’m turning 40 soon) to stop yearning for “what could have been–” for the career I gave up, for the education I didn’t finish, for the “what ifs”…I realize now in caring for and homeschooling these precious children, I have the best life I could have had.

    Also, I appreciate what you said about homeschooling becoming almost like an idol to you. I think I might have fallen into that trap at times, too. Thank you for giving me some things to think about this morning. 🙂

  2. Shannon,

    What lovely words. I felt them right in my heart. I’ve been A Mommy for 20 years now, taking care of my family the best way I know to, and oftentimes feel like society says I should stop now because my babies are nearly 20 and 16. But they, and my husband still need me and I still need them, so we keep on. I am a Mommy. Not Just, but a Mommy, too.

    Congratulations on your newest blessing! Wonderful news!

  3. Thank you for sharing your raw feelings. I, too, struggled with that identity crisis in my “mommy” years. Now my “little” ones are in their 30s and 40s. ☺ our Father is so gracious towards us. Congrats on the coming little one. Blessings

  4. Sharon, thank you for the truth you have spoken in this that you have shared with us. It was such a timely post for me. God has really spoke through you to encourage my heart and remind me of my identity. I am not a mom, not able to have children, and I am single. For years I had a wonderful career as a costume designer in theatre, but left it to come home to care for my mom. Then I developed a bad back problem that resulted in constant pain and put me on disability, and a few months ago I was diagnosed with fibromylasia. Because of the pain I am unable to sit through church. Along the way I lost who I was, your post reminded me that my identity is in Christ, I am a Christian, a precious child of an awesome God and it is because of nothing I have done, deserve, or am. It doesn’t matter that my life is home bound, I can do nothing to earn my status as a child of God, he has done it all and I am totally unworthy of it, yet He loves me and knows my pain, and still He has a plan for me! Thank you for reminding me of this! God bless you and keep writing and sharing the truth of God….which btw you somehow do in each and every post!

  5. Shannon, for some reason my spell check changed your name to Sharon..so sorry for that…

  6. Oh Shannon. Thank you for speaking truth to my stubborn selfish heart. I am blessed to be Mommy to four sweet young children, though none of them are “easy going.” They all have unique, big personalities. The days of homeschooling and being Mommy and wife can grow so long and tiresome. My husband also works from home, such a blessing. I don’t live in a rural area. I live smack dab in the middle of suburbia though we do have a garden and chickens and my heart longs for a farm. Longs for it too much oftentimes.
    But my selfish heart wants time for myself, time for peace and quiet, a break from hearing what feels like constant cries of “Mom! Come help,…come fix,…they did such and such… Mom… Mom…MOM!”
    And my selfish heart tells me that I could send them to school. I could have hobbies. I should get to have alone time. I deserve it.
    And what a wretched word deserve is. No, all I deserved was death and hell. But for His great Love for me, God who is rich in mercy made me alive with Christ. It is by grace I have been saved and spared from the punishment I deserved. And that grace is enough to see me through every single day. Every sleepless night. And though I am weak and incapable, GOD is Able. And His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

    So thank you, Shannon. Thank you for sharing the counter-culture truth that being Mommy is good. Being Mommy is to be treasured. And being Mommy is enough. And it is where God has placed us. Thank you for sharing when you were broken, and the truth I want to live out joyously.
    I am Mommy and it is more than enough.

    Congratulations on your new baby! May God bless you both with health and an easy delivery and recovery.

  7. Congratulations! And you are an excellent writer, too. This is a special post.

  8. This is so real and true. I have had kind of the opposite struggle. Because both my pregnancies have been very difficult physically and the year in between was mostly sleep deprivation, I have never yet been able to do even close to all the good, cool, and basic good things I want to as a wife and mother. So I end up wondering what good I am at all, what I’m accomplishing besides taking up space. And sometimes something (like this post!) reminds me that I am mothering. I’m caring for my son & growing his brother. It’s thr most important work in the world, and no one else can do it but me; and I’m doing it. It’s enough!

  9. First and foremost, congratulations. I’m the eighth of ten children that were my mother’s biological children but she raised five more that were homeless children. One child’s mother brought him over for my mom to babysit and she left him with us for five years and the other four children’s mother died and their family wouldn’t take them so the judge, who was a friend of our family, called my mom and she took them in. The church was the only charity we had in those days well commodities and the church. We never went to bed hungry, our clothes were always clean, and we had heat.

    I’m like you and learn so much from my mistakes. I remember the first time I planted tomatoes. I put them way to close together and I couldn’t even walk between the rows or the plants. LOL Now I leave plenty of room. Today, I was weeding the tomato plants and thought about that first time. I told my husband that we had plenty of tomatoes but it was like walking through a jungle.

    My compost pile has graciously given me a large hill of pumpkin plants and about twenty potato plants. Since I planted two rows of potatoes already, I am leaving them in the compost pile and will see what happens with the rogue plants.

    My grandchildren come to my house after school. My son’s wife, who never worked, decided she wanted out of the marriage to my son. She said he was all tied up in the church and she was too young to act like an old woman. She left her children and for a year didn’t even call them. So, he works and I watch my grandchildren. My daughter’s two younger children come over because they think they need to help me in the garden or cooking. I think it’s because my daughter doesn’t cook real food but you know those processed foods. Even though I worked while my children were growing up, I am so happy I get sort of a second chance with my grands. Today, they all piled into my little bitty kitchen and helped me make brownies. I let them put whatever they want in the brownies so today’s brownies have apples, marshmallows, and raisins. They actually tasted pretty good.

    When will the new baby make his/her arrival? Nothing makes an old woman smile more than seeing a pregnant belly and seeing a newborn baby all cuddled up in someone’s arms. Enjoy the children.

  10. Yes! I have tears of joy for you, Shannon. And for Stewart, who first caught my attention when Annabelle’s finger was cut and his father heart was freaking out.

  11. Shannon, Your heart is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing how the Lord is healing you and moving you from glory to glory. You are the best mom for your children and the Lord knows your heart. May he speak to you so clearly in the coming days. I am so excited about this little blessing. May you have joy and strength through this pegnancy.

  12. Well, this post has really touched my heart! I am a pastors wife…NO….wait a minute… I Am A Christian! I cannot tell you how wonderfully the Lord has used you just now as I read your words of hope for us women. There are many trials in the lives of pastors and their families and it is sooo easy to get caught up in the “what else can I DO to make this better” mode. And is exhausting to say the least! Thank you for putting me back on track so to speak. It is always enough that Jesus gave His all for me! What a priviledge to say, ” I Am A Christian!”

  13. Dear Shannon,
    I´m a reader from over the pond in europe and this post really toucherd my heart. I´m a full time mother of four wonderfull blessings and like all of us trying to do my best on this road together with my husband. I know the struggle of “just” being a mom only to well.
    All I wanted to tell you is that your book “Traditionally Fermented Foods” is not on my shelf, but on my kindle and I aprecciate it very much. It helped me being a mom and a homemaker. It helped me seeing the good I can do ( with help) bein “only” a mom. Because the greates impact we can have is in the people we raise.
    Than you for being “only” a mom.
    (Sorry for my mistakes, keep them as a gift ; ) )

  14. If it’s any consolation, the myth of the self sufficient farmers wife is just that: a myth.

    I never had any intention of ever working outside the home. From a young age my only goal was to be a stay at home mommy and wife. God had other plans for me and at 32, I found myself a divorced working mom. I cannot possibly put to words how much of a failure I feel like for that reason. How much shame I felt.
    I started researching historical accounts and I was actually surprised by the fact that nearly all women ( except wealthy) earned extra incomes by cleaning, sewing, weaving, etc etc. This is also completely ignoring women who were widows who had to work which was a much higher percentage historically. Women have ALWAYS been working moms.

    I guess my whole point here is that I’d turned my idea into an idol and a false one at that. I was trying to live up to a standard that never existed except for wealthy women ( which I’m certainly not) . My daughter is in the loving hands of her aunt and grandmother and playing with her cousin while I work. I’ll probably always feel guilty but i have a job that’s enabling me to take care of my extended family and buy land for a homestead, which I’d never be able to do otherwise.

    The whole thing reminds me of a poster I saw once: “ We make plans, God Laughs”

  15. Well Mama, you are BLESSED and I always enjoy your beautiful simple truthful writing. It is a lifelong process this thing of sanctification and I can relate to you on so many levels. There are many things we can do but we can only really do one or two things REALLY well…for me too it’s being a Christian Wife & Mama…and it is so easy to get off track…but praise the Lord for His mercy and gentle ways of teaching us and showing us where we got distracted and how to get back. Amen and Praise the Lord for the news of your new little blessing! I am expecting any day now with blessing #6…Hope you have a blessed night~

  16. Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend! Oh for grace to trust Him more! Congratulations on expecting!

  17. Shannon, I check in on your blog only sporadically as my own is defunct & my reader’s list is abandoned. But you & Stewart are worth hunting up. I think we started our homesteading journey at the same time & it’s been humbling watching the similarities & differences of our respective paths through how the Lord leads. I’m glad you found the courage to post this eventually, hindsight softens everything. I’ve got your book & plan to use it in the next few weeks as my garden was initially flooded away (western NC). A friend freaked out when she saw your book on my shelf, I’m pretty sure she has her own copy by now. 🙂 You help more struggling mama’s in more ways than perhaps you realize. And congrats on baby 6! We had our sixth in Jan.

    1. Hi Vanessa – I believe I read your blog, once upon a time. 🙂 Thank you for your kind comments and for following along all these years. And thanks for purchasing my book! Aww congrats on your sixth little one – what an adventure!

  18. Such an honest and powerful piece, I so appreciate your vulnerability. I am now a grandmother, and so many of your thoughts resonate with me. I am a Christian first, bought with the precious blood of Jesus. Every other role, including wife and mother, subordinates to that. I am incredibly grateful to have a husband who prioritized my staying home with our child and continues to be home for our grown daughter and her family. It’s such a privilege. I have very often struggled with the guilt of not being a good enough wife/mom/grandma, it seems to be a common struggle. You have beautifully articulated the value of serving Jesus and our families. Thank you.

    1. Mary – I can so relate to both your struggles and your gratitude for your husband. It is a privilege, to be sure, and we are never enough but I have found that bringing that to the throne of grace and sharing that with our children as part of our Christian witness is so powerful. And amen to “Every other role, including wife and mother, subordinates to that.”!

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