The Sacred Ordinary: Finding Spiritual Fulfillment in the Repetitive Work of Motherhood

I was wiping the same spot on the kitchen counter for the third time this afternoon when I noticed the light coming through the window. It was that late afternoon gold that makes everything look softer than it is. The toddler was eating a cheese stick on the floor and the second-grader was practicing her spelling words at the table and the middle-schooler was pretending to do homework while actually watching baseball highlights on his phone. The counter was clean for approximately four more minutes and I stood there with the sponge in my hand and I thought about how many times I have stood in this exact spot doing this exact thing.

Twelve years of wiping this counter and doing laundry and washing dishes and packing lunches and finding the other shoe. Twelve years of the same small motions repeated so many times they have become a kind of prayer I did not know I was praying.

I almost did not write this because it sounds too simple. But I have been sitting with something about the ordinary work of mothering and I think the repetition is the point.

Finding Spiritual Purpose in Motherhood

The Family Proclamation says that mothers have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness. I have read that sentence a hundred times and I always focused on the word sacred. I thought sacred meant something that felt holy. Something that happened in quiet moments with the Spirit palpable and the children listening and the house peaceful.

But I have been paying attention to what the sacred actually looks like in my house and it does not look like that. It looks like wiping the same spot on the counter for the twelfth year in a row. Reading the same picture book for the fourth time because the toddler wants to hear the page about the dog again. Cutting the crust off a sandwich and listening to the second-grader tell me about her horse while I pack her lunch for tomorrow.

The sacred is not separate from the repetition. The sacred is in the repetition.

I think about Alma 37:6 where it says that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass. I used to think that meant the small things would eventually lead to something bigger. But I am starting to think the small things are the great things. The great thing is a child who knows she is loved because someone cut the crust off her sandwich a thousand times. The great thing is a home where the counter gets wiped and the laundry gets folded and the same prayer gets said every night until it becomes part of who they are.

By small and simple things are great things brought to pass (Alma 37:6).

How to Feel God's Presence in Daily Parenting Chores

The hardest part of this work is that it feels invisible. No one sees the counter get wiped. Nobody notices the laundry that got folded and put away. There is no applause when you find the other shoe. The work disappears as soon as it is done and you start again the next day and the next and the next.

I have felt the emptiness of that cycle. The feeling that I am running in place and nothing is changing and maybe I am not doing anything that matters. I have stood in the kitchen at the end of a long day and looked at the dishes in the sink and thought I spent the whole day giving and there is nothing to show for it.

But I have been learning to look for God in the middle of the work instead of waiting until it is done.

I started doing something small a few months ago. When I fold laundry now I try to think of one thing I love about the person whose shirt I am holding. The teenager who leaves her socks balled up inside her jeans. My middle-schooler who still lets me kiss the top of his head when no one is watching. The second-grader who talks through every single step of getting dressed. And the toddler who thinks the laundry basket is a boat. It takes the same amount of time and it changes what the work means.

I wrote about this in Finding the Sacred in the In-Between Moments of Motherhood and I keep coming back to the same truth. The presence of God does not require a quiet room or a clear schedule. It requires attention. And attention is something I can give even when I am tired.

Spiritual Meaning of Homemaking LDS

There is a particular pressure in our community to have a home that feels like a refuge. I believe in that. I want my home to be a place where the Spirit can dwell. But I have started to wonder if I have been confusing the Spirit with peace and quiet.

The Spirit can dwell in a loud house. The Spirit can dwell in a messy house. It can dwell in a house where the toddler is crying about the blue cup and the second-grader is practicing her spelling words and the middle-schooler is watching baseball highlights and the teenager is in her room with the door closed. The Spirit is not afraid of noise.

What the Spirit needs is love. And love is what happens in the middle of the mess. Love is the patient voice when you have said the same thing five times. It is the hand that reaches for the broom again. And it is the body that shows up to do the same work tomorrow even though no one will notice.

I think about the Savior and how much of His ministry was small. He touched people one at a time. He ate meals with people one table at a time. And He taught the same lessons over and over because the disciples kept missing the point. He did not get frustrated by the repetition and He used it for their good.

The homemaking I do every day is not separate from discipleship. It is discipleship. The counter I wipe and the lunch I pack and the shoe I find are the works of my hands and they are the offering I bring.

Overcoming Motherhood Burnout With Faith

I do not want to make this sound easy because it is not. There are days when the repetition feels crushing. Days when I do not want to wipe the counter one more time or find one more shoe or answer one more question about where the blue cup is. Days when the sacred feels very far away and the work feels like just work.

I have learned to be honest about those days. The honest version is that motherhood is hard and the invisible labor is the hardest part. The honest version is that sometimes I do not feel the Spirit in the laundry. I just feel tired.

But I have also learned that the Spirit does not require me to feel something in every moment. The Spirit is present whether I feel it or not. The work I do is holy whether it feels holy or not. And the offering is the same whether I am singing or crying or just standing at the counter with a sponge in my hand.

I think about the widow's mite. She gave two small coins and the Savior said she gave more than anyone. Not because the coins were valuable but because she gave everything she had. That is what this work is. It is not impressive from the outside and it does not get applause. But it is everything I have and I think the Lord sees it.

LDS Perspective on Invisible Labor in the Home

Here is what I want you to know if you are in the middle of the repetition right now. The Lord sees the work you are doing. He sees the counter you wiped and the lunch you packed and the shoe you found. He sees the thousand small acts of love that no one else notices.

I do not know if the children will remember the specific meals or the specific lessons or the specific prayers. But I think they will remember the feeling of being loved. And that feeling is built one small act at a time. One wiped counter and one packed lunch and one found shoe at a time.

The toddler drew on the wall again while I was writing this. A blue line right next to the purple one from last week. I looked at it and I did not get frustrated. I thought about how she wanted to make something beautiful and she used the tools she had. That is what I am trying to do too.

Frequently Asked Questions

How can I feel a spiritual connection when I am just doing chores all day?

Start by reframing the chore as an act of service. Try a prayer of the moment. Thank Heavenly Father for the children who made the mess or for the resources you have to provide for them. When I fold laundry and think of one thing I love about each person whose shirt I am holding, the chore becomes a moment of intentional love.

I feel like I am failing because my home is never peaceful like the examples I see. Does that mean I am not succeeding as a spiritual leader?

Peace is not the absence of noise or mess. It is the presence of the Spirit in the middle of the noise. A home where children feel safe to be messy and loved is often more spiritual than one that is perfectly curated but emotionally closed. The Savior never commented on the state of anyone's home. He cared about the people in it.

What is a micro-ritual I can start today to find the sacred ordinary?

Pick one mundane task and dedicate it as a time for a specific thought or prayer. When you wash dishes, pray for the people who ate from them. While folding laundry, think of one thing you love about each person. And when you wipe the counter, thank God for the food and the hands that ate it. The task does not change but your attention to it does.

What if I do not feel anything spiritual when I try these things?

That is normal and it does not mean you are doing it wrong. The Spirit is present whether you feel it or not. The work is holy whether it feels holy or not. Keep doing the small thing and trust that it matters even when you cannot feel it. The widow's mite was not valuable because of how it felt. It was valuable because she gave it.

How do I stop comparing my home and my mothering to what I see online?

I have started treating social media like a magazine. It is curated and edited and it does not show the full picture. The homes I have walked into in real life are never as perfect as the ones I see online and I think that is because real life is not supposed to look curated. It is supposed to look lived in. The mess is not a sign of failure. It is a sign that people live here and that is exactly what the Lord asked us to create.

I put the sponge down and I looked at the blue line on the wall and I thought about how many more lines there will be before she stops drawing on walls. Hundreds of them probably. And I will wipe the counter and pack the lunches and find the shoes and I will do it again the next day and the next. Not because I have to. Because this is the work He gave me and I am starting to believe it is the work that matters most.

with love, Melissa