Her Children Call Her Happy

One of my greatest hopes for my children is that someday they will look back at their childhood and remember our home as a happy one. Of course they’ll have memories of me yelling at them, tension between their dad and me over [insert countless scenarios here], and sibling squabbles. I’m sure there will be remembrances of sorrow, pain and loss. But ultimately, I would love it if a general sense of joy settles over their memories of the growing up years.

I’ve found myself thinking a lot about how my own attitude and behavior is key to this dream coming true. A while back I spent a few months camped out in Proverbs 31, intent upon truly learning from this example of a woman worth far more than precious jewels. I determined to glean attributes from her that could be applied to my daily dish-washing, nose-wiping, diaper-changing, patience-testing days. And the verse that has been repeating itself in my mind lately comes from the conclusion of this woman’s description.



“Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.” Proverbs 31:28.

Know what’s so special about the meaning of the word blessed in this verse? My Bible’s commentary explained, “Blessed… that is, one who enjoys happy circumstances and from whom joy radiates to others.” Her children call her happy and radiating joy. They see that she is happy with her life and respond about it.

It would be easy to say that she was the model woman, so of course her children would say that about her. But she wasn’t just handed that title; she worked hard for it. All of the hard work she did—her dependability, attention to detail, relationships built—culminating in her role as a wife of noble character brought her joy. A genuine and real joy that was visible to those closest to her: her family. She didn’t make them feel guilty about all she did for them. She didn’t complain about her work load and begrudge them for it. Instead, she found joy in her circumstances.

It made me think about my responsibilities—both in caring for my home and caring for my children. If I were to do the work I need to do, to the extent I should do it, would I have a joyful spirit about it? Is my grumbling because I know I should and could be doing better at taking responsibility for my home, actions and attitude? How often do I reflect a joyful spirit over managing my household? When I talk with friends, do I reflect joy in serving my family? As my children get older, will they call me blessed, or happy about my circumstances?

We can have really good days and we can have really bad days in my home. It seems that one of the only constants is that, at some point, my three year old will have an emotional melt down (and some days, that point happens every hour… half hour… five minutes). And as awful and exhausting and exasperating as those melt downs may be, they are not what ruin the day. It is my response that is the deciding factor. If I join him in the pity party of the century—resenting his behavior, dwelling on unaccomplished plans, admitting defeat and betraying my age by straight up pouting—happiness cannot be present in our home. But if I remember that I am the adult, I am called by God to this great position of motherhood, and God will equip me for my ministry (2 Corinthians 3:4-6), then my day is changed. My children will arise and call me blessed.

Being happy in my circumstances doesn’t mean that they are ideal. It doesn’t mean that I have achieved all that I can in motherhood. And my children certainly aren’t perfect. We all lose it sometimes. But in the end, I can take responsibility for myself. I can oversee the affairs of my household and do it with a joyful spirit. Because what greater reward will there be for my hard work than to have my children arise and call me blessed?

Impressing On My Children

I have many memories of my parents spending their own quiet time with the Lord. In the mornings, I could always count on finding my mom sitting at the end of our couch, Bible and journal in hand. My brothers and I knew that no breakfast would be served until Mom was done with her quiet time. At the end of the day, my dad would come home from work, kiss my mom, catch up with us for a while, and then, on many occasions, retreat to his room until dinner was ready. When sent to tell him to come eat, I’d find him laying on the bed with the Bible spread out across his chest. Sometimes he was sleeping, but most of the time he was underlining or starring passages and making notes in the margins. I always wanted to find something in my Bible worth underlining, or have some thought to jot down as well.

At night, my mom would pray after tucking me in, and my dad did the same with my brothers. The nightly routine of praying with my mom continued until I moved out of the house to go to college. Granted, as I got older I went into her room since mine was too much of a mess. I never doubted the reality of my parents’ faith. I saw it modeled and wanted the same for myself.

Since becoming a mother myself, modeling my faith has been a frequent topic of thought in my mind. How do I maintain the depth and frequency of my time with the Lord while also showing Jace how valuable and genuine it is in my heart? The things I thought would have come so naturally have truly taken effort and consideration. When I found myself slipping into a routine-sounding prayer before putting him to bed each time… “Dear Jesus, Thank you for Jace. Please help him to have a good night sleep. In Jesus name, Amen…” I realized that this precious time of rocking him while he cuddled into me and actually listened was an amazing opportunity to not only pray, but model heart-felt prayer and consistently advocate for my non-believing brother. By committing to this, I feel convicted each time I allow myself to rush through and use the routine prayer.

While my quiet times in the past have always been at night in bed before going to sleep, I’ve recently realized that it’s impossible for my son to see how important daily time in the Word is to me. So now I do it in the mornings while he watches Dora or any show of choice. It may not be as intimate of a time between me and the Lord, I find it no less valuable—if anything, I feel like God has rewarded me with greater revelations about His Word.

I love Deuteronomy 6:5-9. We are given the commandment to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul and strength. But that love is not supposed to stop at the personal level—it’s to be impressed on our children. To be demonstrated in our words and actions. To be engrained in their hearts and minds. My words, regardless of where I am or what I’m doing, are to point my children to an understanding and respect of God’s commands. My faith is to be present within my home, not just my heart.

I definitely have not arrived in regards to impressing my faith on my children, but I’m finding that when I keep it at the forefront of my mind, it’s much more likely to happen. I’m so thankful for parents who honored this command and can only hope and pray that I can do the same for mine.