I am building an invisible house. The work I do is lost to the eyes of the world. I do not receive a paycheck at least in monetary form, nor do I receive such benefits as insurance, retirement, or tax deductions.
I am building an invisible house. The structure is sometimes lost, in laundry baskets, dirty dishes, and bills. I can catch glimpses of it, fleeting, each day, if I look for it. But the devil also works, whispering insecurities and lies, urging me towards comparison, distraction and discontent.
I am building an invisible house. It requires great diligence, being present, much prayer, and overwhelming amounts of humility. I am learning on the job. Even if I read all the books in the world on the topic, even if I attended every class and seminar, I still would be inadequate by myself.
I am building an invisible house. Moment by moment, I try to learn from my perfect heavenly Father. Every day, I am thankful for His grace for my own mistakes and sins, for His power strengthening my resolve, for His wisdom (when I let it) guiding my heart, my thoughts, my words, my actions.
I am building an invisible house. Here I stand, humbled by the magnitude of my responsibility. I am a steward over two precious souls. Who else is there to teach them of the love of Jesus? Who else will teach them how to be kind, how to clean up, how to serve? Who else will help them grow – in grace, in love, in favor with God and man? Who else will show them what it means to be a wife? To be a Christian?
I am building an invisible house. It cannot be measured in inches or certificates, salaries or compensation. It cannot be found in museums, halls of fame or social media.
I am a Christian. I am a wife. I am a mother. And my invisible work is to help those in my house to get to heaven.
And if I do nothing more, that will be enough.