Most women become housewives when their kids are infants and their husbands are building their professional careers. But not me! Today is Saturday, Dec. 5, 2009, and it is my first day as a housewife. Yikes!
Our son is 15 and my husband is overseas with his job and I’ve been employed most of my adult life as a professional this or that. (I spent a lot of years getting an undergraduate degree, majoring in Journalism and later an MBA, so I’ve been a reporter, stockbroker, marketer, and financial analyst to name a few. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I’m quickly approaching 50, and am feeling some pressure to figure it out!)
The daily pressures of a fast-paced financial analyst profession with a kazillion never-ending deadlines, a husband overseas, a teenager learning to drive and parents who are needing increasingly more care is just more than I can handle at the same time. Not to mention that the house and yard are severely neglected, as are my friendships and most importantly, my time spent with God.
My husband and I agreed we are at a place where we can live solely on his income and I can tend to the matters at home. Home matters – wait, I didn’t get a degree in this! I’ve not spent that much time learning how to do “homey” things. Working most of my married life meant that a lot of homey things went undone, like cooking and decorating and dishes and . . . well, the sad thing is, we are pleasantly accustomed to that lifestyle!
But here I am. Suddenly faced with being a housewife. Accidentally, really because I never “planned” to be a housewife. But I know that God has been leading me here for a long time.
Nearly 20 years ago, we moved away from the city life in Dallas-Ft. Worth, to a small rural town 30 minutes away. Close enough to get back to the “city conveniences” if needed, but far enough away, to enjoy small town America. But the move meant that my first love (a.k.a. writing passion) and budding writing career came to a halt. Back then, personal computers, the Internet and cell phones weren’t quite mainstream (maybe not even invented yet! Oh, my!). Small town America didn’t employ writers, so my career turned to the business side of my brain, which was more plentiful in the job markets surrounding us.
So here I am accidentally in a place where I believe God is calling me. A place where I can nurture and take care of my family, my home – and write. Accidentally on purpose!
I am where I am supposed to be.
But what do I do first? I look around me. There is much to do!