The Sacred Work of Parenting: Finding Joy in Everyday Responsibilities
Every day, as parents, we wake up with the rising sun and a weight of responsibility. It’s just the way life is. Babies are adorable but need us every moment. Toddlers are hilarious but require constant redirection. Having children in our home means spilled milk, mountains of laundry, sibling quarrels, endless meals, and so much more.
Even vacations don’t exempt us from responsibility. I remember the summer we bought a pop-up camper to make our trips more economical. Halfway through our first trip, I turned to my husband, Jonny, and said, “If this is vacation, I don’t want it!” Every responsibility I had at home followed me into that camper—but intensified. Laundry had to be hauled to a laundromat with rolls of quarters. Meals had to be prepped, cooked, and served to kids covered in campground dirt. It was externally messy, but internally, I was even messier. It felt like the worst vacation of my life.
We’ve since learned that slowing our pace way down is the only way to enjoy camping. But that’s not easy for us—we like life at full throttle. Over the past 26 years of parenting, the Lord has faithfully met me at every crossroads and transition, teaching me invaluable lessons. He has made it possible not only to parent my children but to find deep joy in the process. That joy transforms responsibility from a burdensome word into an honor. Responsibility melts away, and opportunity takes its place.
From the beginning of time, God has been setting up homes. The entire creation week was about preparing a place for Adam and Eve—a perfect home. Then, Genesis 2:15 tells us, "The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to tend and keep it." What a beautiful image: Adam and Eve, surrounded by perfection, given a divine purpose—to tend and keep their home.
When I was a child, my mom taught me how to handle my responsibilities—cleaning my room, washing dishes, and tidying my bathroom. Now, as a mother of eight, I spend a lot of time teaching my children about responsibility. But I’ve realized something transformative: When we shift our perspective from responsibility to purpose, everything changes. Our children are created to be members of our family, and their work within that context is part of their purpose. Cleaning the garage, doing homework, helping siblings—these are all sacred acts when we see them through the lens of God’s Kingdom.
There are no menial tasks in the Kingdom of God, and there are no menial tasks in our homes. Everything we do is part of tending and keeping our own ‘Garden of Eden.’
Tending: A Sacred Act
Let’s break this idea down further. The Hebrew word for "tend" is abad (aw-bad), meaning to work, serve, or cultivate. Doesn’t that sound like parenting? Webster defines work as “an activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose,” and to serve as “performing duties or services for another person.” Every day, we are surrounded by opportunities to work and serve our families.
When Adam and Eve were given their role in tending the Garden, it was a divine calling. And guess what? This same calling was given to us the moment we said, "I do." The day we entered marriage, we stepped into our lifelong purpose. It didn’t begin when children arrived—it started the moment our home was established.
Your home is a big deal to God. The everyday moments—cleaning toilets, making meals, going to work—have eternal value. These are the tending moments of our lives.
Living the Dream
Years ago, one of our former babysitters visited us after returning from college. She was eager to hear our love story—how Jonny and I met, our dating life, our engagement. After listening intently, she leaned back, sighed, and said, “How does it feel to be living the dream?”
That night, as I held my child’s hair back while they vomited, Jonny called out, “How’s it going in there?” With a chuckle, I replied, “Just living the dream.”
Later, I realized just how true that was. In those untidy moments of parenting, I had the holy opportunity to step into my divine purpose. Matthew 25:40 says, "Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me." Every act of service—holding a sick child, washing dishes, working a job to provide—has eternal value because we are ultimately serving Jesus.
Fathers, if you’re working a tedious job to support your family, know that you are tending your home faithfully. Your purpose is bigger than your job; your job is just the avenue through which you fulfill your calling.
Mothers, if you’re surrounded by endless needs, feeling trapped in a whirlwind of diapers, bottles, and tantrums, hear this: Your work matters for eternity. You are raising the next generation, and Jesus receives your service as if you have done it for Him. Can you picture Mary caring for Jesus in the same way you care for your children? You are pouring into something of eternal worth.
Cultivating the Kingdom in Our Homes
Let’s look at the final part of abad: cultivate. Webster defines cultivate as:
To prepare and work on
To promote or improve growth by labor and attention
To produce by culture
To develop and improve by education or training
To devote oneself to
To seek to promote or foster
Parenting is all about cultivation. We are not just maintaining our homes—we are preparing, promoting growth, developing, and devoting ourselves to the sacred work of raising children.
Sometimes, our purpose can feel like a list of responsibilities that weigh us down. But when we shift our perspective, we see that these daily tasks—folding laundry, cooking dinner, helping with homework—are all part of something greater. We are not just working; we are tending, serving, and cultivating our families for the Kingdom of God.
So the next time you find yourself scrubbing dishes or rocking a fussy baby in the middle of the night, remind yourself: You are living the dream. You are stepping into your divine purpose. And every moment—no matter how small—has eternal value.