Unsharpened Pencils

If you knew me in 2010, you probably heard this story live in the flesh.  I told it to everyone.  I was reeling from uncertainty and what felt like a total loss of my identity.  Everything I thought I wanted in life was being taken from me, and I was being thrust, completely unwillingly, into new, uncharted, and absolutely terrifying waters.  

Long story short, I lost my job at the civil engineering firm where I'd worked since graduating college.  With nary a job to be found elsewhere, I was heading home.  With my three small children.  

Put this way, it does not seem quite so dramatic, but maybe that's what 14 years of retrospect and life can do to a person.  

I remember the first pediatrician visit I had following the job loss.  I sat with the paperwork in hand for my child staring at the field labeled "Mother's Occupation."  What should I write?  I couldn't possibly write "stay-at-home mom" or "homemaker."  Yikes, those are such antiquated, menial titles.  I was Jennie, the newly-licensed "Professional Engineer."  I had worked insanely hard for that designation.  To my 2024's most-regrettable shame, I wrote the word "unemployed."   Somehow, that seemed like the better choice.

This came to mind recently when I was reading angry internet commentary about Harrison Butker.  No one really cares to hear another opinion on the matter, I'm sure, but the whole conversation (if you can call it that) gave me the opportunity to consider the arc of my own life over the past 14 years.  

Some of it comes down to a tub full of unsharpened pencils.

Just this morning, my three eldest daughters and I went to church to help prep supplies for VBS.  This is what my high school journalism teacher would have referred to as a "thankless task," the type no one notices until it isn't done or maybe is done poorly.  We have never helped with this before, but were happy to because it really is true that many hands make light work, and we are in summer break mode!  Read: We spend a lot of time wondering what we could be doing since we aren't doing the things we have to be doing.

As we doled out Sharpies and post-its and markers and glue sticks, we got to a tote box of pencils that needed to be portioned out for the classrooms.  Closer inspection revealed that these pencils were unsharpened.  Noting that there were about a billion pencils in that box and that my babysitter was due at his actual job in a short time, we decided to bring the box home where we have two very nice electric sharpeners to accomplish the task.  

Sharpening pencils is a job that just about anyone in my household can do, right down to the four year old (with supervision, probably).  It's pretty mundane in the grand scheme of the universe.  But, oh, what God can do with a pencil in the right hand.  What work there is there is to be accomplished by sharpening pencils to the glory of God! 

What some might perceive to be a rubbermaid of Ticonderogas, I must admit I see as much more.  These pencils will be held by the hands of young souls who will be presented with gospel truth at VBS.  They will be used to write Scripture to memorize and hide in their hearts.  They are implements to be used with eternity in mind.  

So what does this have to do with losing jobs and NFL kicker's speeches?

In November of 2010, I was doing everything I did for the glory of Jennie.  I wanted to make much of myself.  God, in His infinite wisdom and sovereignty, saw fit to tear that idol right down.  He took me out of my perceived prestige and put me in a perceived humble station.  I don't think I ever had any real prestige, but being at home has certainly humbled me.  

Homemaker is not a dirty word.  And it's not a denigration.  I don't know why, even if being a full-time stay-at-home mom is not what we're called to be, our culture so disparages that office.  If we believe the Bible, we are called to be keepers of the home, ladies.  All of us.  I guess that's unpopular, but those are God's words, not my opinion.  This is a divine calling.  If you are struggling with wanting to do things at home because you think it's oppression, I would challenge you to pray about that.  Earnestly.  Building a home full of peace and love where your family makes memories, learns to love people and Jesus, and feels safe and comfortable in is not a small thing.  It's constant hard work.  It's a privilege.  The home is where hearts are cultivated.  It's not a backup plan.  Or a "have-to."  It's a gift.

God took me, a P.E. with a bad attitude, and put me right in the midst of the last place I wanted to be.  At home.  I'm not sure why this idea was so unpalatable to me.  Now, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.  Literally.  Please.  Just let me go home, and stay there.  It took years of sanctification to turn my heart away from my career and towards my family.  It hurts me to say that, but it's true.  I was a miserable wretch while I was working, even when I was sitting exactly where I desired to be.  God flipped that upside down.  He brought joy where I never imagined being.  

I'm not here to argue whether women should work outside the home or not.  I am not here to tell you what call God has placed on your life.  What I am here to remind you, fellow Christians, is that wherever you are, whatever you are doing, work heartily as for the Lord and not for men.  Let us "lean in" to God's will for our lives.  We were placed in this time, in this place because God knows better than we do.  Whatever you do, in word or deed, do it all to the glory of God.  If this means designing site drainage plans, or raising your babies, or sharpening pencils for VBS, do it for God's glory.    He can use it.  And He will.

When it feels like life is nothing but sharpening a box of pencils, think about the life-changing potential of the work you're putting in.  Take heart.  Press on.  There's nothing menial when you're sitting in God's will for your life, whatever that looks like.  

If He can make a homemaker out of Jennie Sheppard, there's no limit to what He can do.  Sometimes we just need to get out of our own way and watch.