Dangerous "Humility"

This video.

This video is being passed all over Facebook and all these moms and grandmoms are cooing over it like it means something sweet and inspiring.

It makes me want to vomit.

I mean are you kidding me? I'm supposed to think this bullshit is sweet? AND INSPIRING? I'm supposed to sit and hear some woman talk about how it doesn't matter that her ENTIRE FAMILY ignores her and everything she does and that she's just happy to blend into the background and not matter and be disrespected and walked all over because God sees it?

I mean don't get me wrong, I've walked in some of those cathedrals and I've felt the awe that comes from such a masterfully created, monstrous work of artful architecture. I've closed my eyes in Westminster Abbey and felt the presence of the souls buried nearby and the heard the voice of God in the shuffle of thousands of feet that have come to walk the floors of this, His house. I absolutely understand that it took more than one man and that it took more than a few men's lifetimes to complete and I know that there are countless details that were crafted in humble worship and secret. And we don't know their names. Their likenesses are not pillars in museums, their descendants are not forever reffered to as "So and So's Great-Great-Great Somone". They did not live to see the multitudes flock to see, flock to sing, flock in awe...

But do we disrespect them? Do we act as if they did not exist? Do we ignore them? If  we did, the magnificent buildings they created would not still be standing. If we did, we wouldn't keep coming. The woman in this video would never have received such a book if we did such a thing.

I expect more from my family. I expect more from my husband for damn sure. Though they are but 1 and 2 years old, I expect more from my children. I refuse to believe that just because without me the house might never be built that that is respect enough. You don't abuse things that are important, and if you do abuse the ones building the house, and nothing is done to protect, to repair, to sustain them... You can bet your life that house is going to fall.

Maybe I'm too prideful. Maybe I'm not cut out for this job the way that sweet Christian wives and mothers are supposed to be. Maybe I'm not a sweet Christian wife. Or even a sweet Christian. (Maybe I write too many sentence fragments. So, sue me.) But I think this line of thought is a dangerous one. I think it's so very closely related to the mindset that kept my mother quiet when my father hit her. I think it's the cousin of the one that kept me thinking it was just my fault when they (all of the boyfriends, the ones who weren't even boyfriends.. all of the them) used me and left me empty. I think it's definitely the sister of the thoughts that tell you you don't matter and if you just disappeared, the moment they found your replacement your life and your previous presence in theirs would cease to matter, cease to have ever mattered.

I think it's disgusting and I refuse to accept it. I refuse to live it. Maybe I won't be famous for being a mom. And that's ok. In fact, if I ever am famous, I'd kind of rather it not be because somebody calls me Mama. Maybe my name won't be in a history book because I was the best at waking up early and staying up late doing things for the man I married and the children I bore. And that's just fine.

But you better believe that I will not abide my family treating me like I don't matter. I've told myself that for too long.

Too.
Damn.
Long.

I don't need to worshiped and praised and remembered by the masses. But I need to be treated with the same love and respect that I give to them. If I am not, I'm doing it wrong.