Oh, that God would give every mother a vision of the glory and splendor of the work that is given to her when a babe is placed in her bosom to be nursed and trained! Could she have but one glimpse in to the future of that life as it reaches on into eternity; could she look into its soul to see its possibilities; could she be made to understand her own personal responsibility for the training of this child, for the development of its life, and for its destiny,--she would see that in all God's world there is no other work so noble and so worthy of her best powers, and she would commit to no other's hands the sacred and holy trust given to her." -JR Miller

So, I'm having one of those days when by 10AM I've wiped poop off every bottom in this house except my husband's.

It's not that it's a bad day. So far no tantrums. Everyone ate their breakfast. I got the dishwasher unloaded and loaded again. I have a few quiet minutes to sit at my computer. I actually know what I'm cooking for dinner tonight.

It's just that on some days, I get tired of the poop waiting for me on other people's backsides.

I gazed out my kitchen window this morning, ignoring the mess I knew the boys were making in the living room with their Legos and thought of all the women out there who got up super early this morning, did their hair and make up and actually put on an outfit with no denim component to it. I thought about how they'd turn in their projects or tell other people how to do their projects. I thought about how their feet would start to hurt by mid-afternoon from those killer heels, but dang, they'd look good wearing them!

You know what I have on my feet right now? Fuzzy, white slippers from Walmart and their sides are starting to come apart because they were made so cheaply.

And I was starting to wonder what it would be like to put my kids on the magic yellow bus or drop them off at daycare or preschool before driving off to spend 8+ hours in an adult world... thinking that might be the way to go...

Because, seriously, no one at any of my previous jobs hollered at me from the bathroom to wipe their bottom... I have a college degree, for crying out loud and it's not in Poopology!

Then my almost two-year-old toddled up to me with his adorable cowboy boots in hand, saying, "Boys? Peeeesssss?" asking me to put them on him. And I thought, if I wasn't home, where God has called me to be, and I didn't see my children for most of the day, would I even know little Eli calls his cowboy boots "boys"? Or would he be asking some other caregiver to put his boots on for him.

No, I'm not going to get a paycheck with my name on it this Friday. But if what God has called me to is wiping poop off little bottoms, then I'll try to do it with a smile on my face. I'll do it to the best of my God-given ability. I'll do it with all my heart because I know I'm investing in little bottoms that I believe will make a difference in this world for His glory!

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. ~ II Corinthians 9:8

So, do you think in heaven there is a reward for the best bottom-wiper?