As the sun rises each day in the refugee camp, a familiar site is mothers walking together to the bore hole to get water.
They are often in small groups. Plastic jerrycans in their hands. Each woman wearing colourful toob’s (long flowy pieces of printed fabric) wrapped around their bodies. They return to their homes gracefully balancing their full to overflowing jerrycans on their head. What they are carrying is precious water for their family.
This is just the start of their daily grind.
As the day goes on it follows a repetitive pattern:
Sweep the dirt.
Care for children.
Cook.
Wash the dishes.
Clean very dirty clothes (by hand).
Have coffee with the neighbour.
Start on the next meal.
Feed the children.
Wash the dishes.
And so it goes on- you get the idea.
Each task takes much longer than most of us would accept in our Western daily lifestyle.
They don’t get holidays. They rarely complain. It has been said a good mountain woman has more children than fingers.
There is so much we can learn about daily contentment from these amazing women.
However, there is something that keeps coming back to me as I watch them graciously go about their daily.
They are very rarely alone.
These women do life together.
They fetch water together.
They cook together and clean together.
They care for children together.
They drink coffee together.
They say to me, ‘Women, we need each other. We need to share the work. Life here is too difficult if you are alone as a mother.’
I had not experienced community life quite like this before.
Women seemed to always have friends around to do everyday mothering with.
When a group went to fetch water, others stayed behind and watched the children.
Whilst one cooked, the other chopped vegetables and another got the fire going.
They shared tea cups and cooking pots and salt and sugar.
As I partook in this community, I realised that my mundane days were being broken up into more enjoyable pieces.
And in the breaking something very precious was revealed. The treasure of interdependent community.
Burdens were carried together. Daily chores an opportunity to share life.
Beautifully, Galatians 6:2 reads, “Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
Simply put, obeying our Lord Jesus looks like sharing and bearing our daily grind within community.
As I observed these mothers walking together in the Refugee Camp, there was a ‘this seems right’ sense deep in my heart.
I don’t get this same feeling when I observe our large, individual homes in the West and see mothers struggling alone, behind closed doors. Perhaps we can learn from these women from a different culture to ours? I wonder what little steps we could each take towards sharing our burdens with other mothers around us.
What if we were mothers walking together with God?
Most of us have days when we feel alone on our daily mothering journey. When we desparately want to break up the repetitive cycle of our mundane day but there are no friends in easy reach. A sweet truth is we have a God who invites us to call Him Father. Friendship with our heavenly Father breaks up our mundane days.
Like any friendship, going deep with Him requires vulnerability. On the Cross He was vulnerable with us. He exposed the depths of His love for us. We also need to be vulnerable with Him – Give Him an all-access card to our hearts. As we dare to invite Him into the messy, not-so-polished parts of our day we are giving Him our trust. This is so important in friendship.
Whether it be external stuff like our 2 day-old-dirty dishes,
Or the washing piles
Or the toddler tantrums.
Our busy agitated minds with endless to-do lists,
Or our anxieties
Or our loneliness.
God longs to break through into those moments and connect deeply with you and I. But I believe He waits for the welcome.
Would you welcome Him into these places and spaces this week?
On this journey with you my sisters
Grace and peace
Hope
Hallelujah in the Mountains 