Women's Work

Jan 12, 2015

Women’s Work

There were little puddles on the floor of the mud room that lead over to a pair of snowy coveralls.  Ice chunks on the ankles were melting and dripping right back into the tired old muck boots.   The insulating blanket of snow on and around the house set the tone for the solace.  The house was quiet with both my husband and little ones napping.  I’ll finish the idyllic scene by saying meat and potatoes roasted in the oven, and the gentle hum of a running dishwasher was the only music I needed while I folded freshly bleached laundry.  The thought of little calves and little babies warmed me from the inside out.

That is not this working woman’s world.

Those puddles in the mud room were mine.  We were so tired from going pasture to pasture to feed during this last cold snap, I hadn’t the time, care, or energy to clean up.  The mudroom smelled so much like wet dog that the wet dogs didn’t even want to be in there. That hot and hearty meal and clean laundry would have to wait for who knows for how long.  It is winter on the ranch!  

I think often about what is a woman’s work not because I want an easy out, but I want to do what is right for my husband and our livelihood.   My parents were the best at adhering to traditional gender roles.  My mom never so much as took a full bag out of a trash can, but my dad never folded a shirt in their 30 years of marriage.  

When I got married, I wanted to be able to work at life in a 50/50 fashion.  I would drive the tractor as often as my husband fed a baby.  But of course, in many respects, my husband and I have fallen into the traditional domestic roles.  Yesterday, he asked how to strain noodles, and I’ve broken more than a few watering-tank levers.  Gender roles exist for a reason--God gave us talents in certain areas, and we have little choice other than to respect that.

Then again, when it comes to living out in the country, let alone doing agricultural work, we simply cannot work solely in our traditional roles.  Which is a hard fact I’m having to face when I want to be a domestic goddess while STILL trying to be a hand.  Instead, we work as a team because neither of us can do it all.  Unfortunately for my home, that teamwork happens more heavily on the ranch, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  My kitchen should be spotless since I don’t have time to cook in it, but instead, there are little frozen pizza crumbs on the counter and empty cartons don’t always make it to the trash can.

The trade off is that I get to be out there too.  Time spent working with and for my husband and family (and especially on the ranch) is the greatest kind of work a woman can do.  My husband constantly reminds me that the work in the house is far less important than what we do outside.  He appreciates me, as a wife, as his help.  “An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. She does him good, and not harm, all the days of her life. She seeks wool and flax, and works with willing hands.” Proverbs 31.  With the most willing hands, I will do the work my family needs me to do.  We can get by on everything else.

Society, our peers, and even our faiths try to tell us what is a woman’s place and her work and what should make her feel fulfilled.  However, when it comes down to it, those stereotypes were broken long ago.  They are and probably should be ever evolving within each family.  While burping a baby is admittedly easier than flaking hay off of a 3x3, there is also something fulfilling about the work on the ranch.  Who’s to say that baby can’t come too!?  Perhaps it is the physical labor of swinging an ax into a frozen tank or hucking small bales onto a trailer.  Perhaps it is the mental stimulation and fortitude it takes to get the truck out of a snowy ditch or being emotionally strong enough to endure the death of livestock due to storms. Sometimes I think the pleasure comes from a job well done.  I know after our hay field is cut, baled, stacked, and tarped, I feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment, yet I don’t think that is quite it either.  The sense of fulfillment is doing whatever work you’re called to do, as a woman, doing it well whether it be on the farm or in the house, and most importantly whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.- Coll. 3:17

I have a hard time accepting that I will probably never actually get around to sweeping dirt off of my mudroom floor.  The sting of what I’m “supposed” to do for work as a woman (but never having time to do) is lessened by what I actually do as a woman.  In my family and on our farm that work happens outside, holding my own in the agricultural lifestyle.  I know the effects of my participation outside are felt at home when my husband and I walk into that stinky mudroom, both lay down our leather work gloves, and then make our way to the kitchen to get out dishes for a supper that we will prepare together.