Where Is My Fairy Godmother?

When the Fairy Godmother (3)

On Belonging to Our Reality

It’s four o’clock in the afternoon and in my house, that usually means the witching hour. Something is heating on the burner for dinner, toys are strewn about, the kids are at their highest need levels and I am at my most emotionally burdened point in the day. And there this creeping feeling in the back of my mind that everything I have to do right now, well, it isn’t fair.

By this point, the make-up I’d applied at 7 am is a little smudged and I’ve changed out of my original outfit because motherhood is quite suited to work-out clothes for the physical tasks I’m performing for my 1, 3, 5 and 6 year-olds. The hair around my temples has all frizzed up, it’s just an inch or two long, growing in from the massive amounts I lost after my final pregnancy.

My internal and external are presenting in a similar fashion; frazzled in, bedraggled out. It’s at these moments I’m plagued with wishing somehow someone would intervene, to help transform my situation,  my burdened demeanor and my grubby appearance.

But… my husband does not walk through the door to assist with the kids and the chores. It’s too early yet.

And… my fairy godmother does not show up.

When Cinderella found herself on her hands and knees scrubbing in the ashes, she probably wasn’t expecting the magical fairy to appear. According to the story, her nature was kind and good and through some great act of  justice, Cinderella found herself the recipient of all of her greatest wishes without even asking for them.

I wish I could be Cinderella.

Don’t we all? Isn’t that why the story is so immensely popular? Maybe it’s because she marries a handsome prince, but I think there is something else we can relate to even more. It’s the idea that good people doing the right things, like us mothers in the trenches, should be given justice.

Cinderella didn’t deserve to stay home cleaning in an ugly old dress while her snotty step-sisters went to a ball to woo a wealthy prince. No, the universe saw right through that one. She was given a fairy godmother to orchestrate the great transformation she needed for life to turn out just perfectly.

The good one won.

Hey, I’m doing pretty good, I should win. Someone should rescue me.

From what?

From the laundry, cleaning, cooking, nursing, loving on, counseling, hugging and refereeing of the children I’d always dreamed of? 

Maybe I’ve got my reality all wrong.

Perhaps I harbor hidden sentiment that I’m unjustly oppressed in my motherhood. Perhaps I’m falsely believing that I am Cinderella, stuck in the mud and mire, waiting for the universe to figure out I need, deserve even, a little help here.

When really I am Cinderella, just a few years after she married the prince.

Oh, I forgot. The fairy godmother came already.

It’s so easy to get sucked into begrudging our current circumstances that we actually feel oppressed by them. And even forget that they were exactly what we wanted before. In order to live with purpose and gratitude, we must choose to belong to our current realities and not wish them away.

Yes, there may be some challenges and moments of upheaval, but fairy tales are just that. Whatever we’re fantasizing about doesn’t exist. And if we are wishing for a divine intervention, we have that option, any time.

When you are bogged down in mothering or whatever your challenge may be, if you find yourself wishing for a universal give-me, submit instead to God’s promises and provision. God isn’t in the business of remodeling our externals to make our lives whatever we wish we had. But he is constantly working to transform our hearts and minds so our longing becomes greater, bigger than wishing we had a fairy godmother to wave her wand over our circumstances.

Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. 2 Corinthians 4:16 (ESV)

And, by the way, feel free to stop by and babysit my kids any day at 4 pm. I’ll consider it God showing up the fairy godmother.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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