I narrowed my image of “helper” to secretarial housekeeper, not the Word. And the home-keepers—home “guarders”—Paul wrote to in Titus 2 came from all different types of backgrounds, from servants helping other women keep their homes to delegators giving those servants their marching orders. He spoke to homemakers and tentmakers (Acts 18:2–3).  So many slender passages have been extrapolated into tomes of guilt and shame. 

Three days ago, I stared up at the ceiling, my chest gripped with the anxiety of a mile-long to-do list, when my husband climbed into bed next to me.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “Both of us are making a little extra income now, and once we get to a better place with debt, I would love to hire a personal assistant for you. I have one now at work, and it’s great. We could get you one who could also answer emails, help fold laundry, or even run errands during the day while you take care of Wynn.”

That’s what he said. What I heard? “Babe, you’re contributing to our income by taking time away from your wifely duties. The kitchen is a mess right now, you’ve been promising to get to that laundry all week, and Wynn slapped a little girl at daycare, probably because he shouldn’t be in daycare while you’re teaching, even if it is only twice a week. You need a personal assistant to pick up your slack, because you’re a loser with warped priorities.”

He said, “I just want to help you. You’ve got a lot on your plate.”

My shame-filled self yelled, “But I’m supposed to be your helper!”

And I’ve crumbled under the weight of that conversation for three days.

The Raw Deal

If you asked me to list the things I love most in this world, I would say:

1. My family
2. My job (teaching)
3. My side hustle (writing)

For anyone thinking, “Aha! God is not on the list!” a few words are in order. First, God is a given. Second, I’m talking about the gifts he has given to me. And third, don’t be that person.

My family is my sweetest earthly gift. I was blessed with an amazing family of origin, and Phillip and I have built a wonderful family over the last three and a half years. Our son Wynn is our world. We are those obnoxiously gushing toddler parents.

When Phillip and I got married, my mom took him aside and said, “Remember, you can hire someone to keep your house clean, but you can’t hire someone with her mind and her heart. Anyone can do her to-do list. Nobody is going to love you like she can or think like she can.”

With nine kids at home, my mother was twice the home-keeper as I am, a thought that fuels a lot of my homekeeping shame, but she understood me better than I understood myself.

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