Joe Biden, clemency, and a God of true mercy
Joe Biden’s mercy is not like God’s mercy. Whether or not the President should have pardoned his son, Hunter, is a question for others. Either way, this e...
Read
For the past year, I’ve been investing a lot of time and energy into a new project. I have spent 730 hours – or 30 full days – of the last year working on it. If I was earning the London living wage for the time I spent on this project, I would have amassed over £10,000.
So, what is this project?
Nursing my baby.
My little boy was born in early 2024, and I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to exclusively breastfeed him pretty much since he was born. Day and night, for minutes to hours at a time, I have sat, cradling my child, and fed him.
And I’ll be honest: I found it hard. Less so physically – after the first few weeks, at least – but more so intellectually, emotionally, and, most unexpectedly, from a discipleship perspective.
You see, I went from a job of speaking to churches, writing for big Christian mailing lists, teaching and preaching, and sharing the gospel… to sitting on my sofa, watching Grey’s Anatomy, and feeding my baby.
The mundanity of it surprised me. The unseenness of it frustrated me. The lack of praise, of monetary reward, of recognition, humbled me.
Was I being a good Christian if I wasn’t seen doing it? Was I really fulfilling my God-given potential if I wasn’t speaking, writing, and outputting content into the world? What did it look like to be a faithful disciple of Jesus whilst focused entirely on caring for this tiny, needy little baby?
When I was growing up, my mum had a drawing on her desk of a young woman hanging out the washing. Below was Luke 1:38, ‘Behold, the handmaid of the Lord’ (KJV). In other translations, it’s ‘Behold, the servant of the Lord’. I’ve thought about that postcard a lot in the first year of motherhood.
Hanging out the washing: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
Doing the school run: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
Wiping snotty noses and poopy bums: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
Rocking back to sleep at 3am: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
730 hours of breastfeeding: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
In the mundanity, the ordinariness, and the everyday unseen faithfulness of caring and showing up and sticking around: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
This week, in the modern mundanity of everyday life, may these words ring in our ears and echo in our prayers: behold, the handmaid of the Lord.
Alianore Smith
Associate speaker for LICC, and Church Mobilisation Manager at IJM UK
HahaI was reading this whilst breastfeeding! Very relatable, thank you!
Loved that. Towards the end of my life, I’m caring for frail husband: behold the handmaid of the Lord.
Well done for keeping going Alianore! No one can prepare you for what’s it’s like caring for a newborn! The overwhelming feeling of responsibility but also the fact that you don’t have time for anything else much! But definitely worth it and the Lord’s task for you at this time.
God bless you and thank you. So helpful, but I read it as someone in their 80s as a registered carar for my husband when ‘just living’ seems to take most of the time so we can no longer do many of the things in which we were formerly engaged. At this stage of life it’s an equally helpful reminder.
Alianore, I always love the raw authenticity of your writing. Thank you for reminding us that we are handmaids (servants) of the Lord, in whatever we are doing, whether great or mundane, seen or unseen.
Dear Alinore,
I’ve enjoyed your writing for a long time — since the days when you were Nell 😉
My babies are 16 and 18 now, but I remember that first year like it was yesterday; and I remember the feelings you relate, though I haven’t felt them for a long time. I hope that if you have not yet, you will soon come to treasure the time spent in unseen service to God (and all service is to God, even when it is to your own child). Not least of all, the hours we spend in unseen prayer for others.
And I hope you’ll also find that service to God enriches you more greatly than you can imagine. That your writing becomes deeper and richer for having been the handmaid of the Lord.
Keep strong — you’re through the worst.
I’ll be praying for you.
Such an important question that you have asked. Thank you.
You have one of the most important and influential tasks given to you by God — bringing up your precious gift of a son. In all you do for him you are sharing the love that God has put in you – he will sense and adore the love and care you give him. These early years are so important in a child’s upbringing, for they are very formative. He will find in you a security as you are meeting his needs lovingly, even through all those stinky times, those times when you long for a break to catch that moment of sleep and to have time to yourself, those times when you are looking for intellectual stimulation rather than talk about babies all the time. You share the Gospel in what you do and the attitudes that you show. There are times when it is tough, but God is with you ALWAYS. The God who was inspiring your teaching and enabling you, by His Spirit, to share the Gospel in preaching and writing, is the same God who is giving you a precious and important task which is unique to you. There will be ups and downs and times you wish could be different, but, just as God gifted you to preach and write, he will enable you to be the loving mother he made you to be. As well as despairing over the really difficult times, savour and treasure those happy moments. In later years you’ll treasure the photos you took of your son at various stages.
You will get some lovely human-to-human moments when he is 8 months or so.
Share him and your struggles with others (particularly close family) and constantly lay your day before the Lord for him to guide and enable you.
Treasure these times – they will be over so quickly.
God bless you abundantly.
Well said. Excelent article, very helpful for those of us who are doing jobs in the ‘background’. My dad was a good example of this kind of works that are unseen.