House on the Rock

The sun is casting its crisp autumn glow across the world outside my window. My pajamas are on, despite it being not quite 8 PM, and I’m cozy against a multi-pillow mountain while a pumpkin pecan candle wafts its fallish fragrance through the house. SIKE! How could I ever relax with the silent killer of synthetic odors dancing through the air and straight into my lungs?

And that’s the world I’m in lately. No time to relax — too many toxins afoot. Not only toxins but carcinogens in every snack. Red dye so demonic it could melt my brain. AI robots ready to hack our entire livelihood and a school system primed to indoctrinate my kiddo beyond rationality. But don’t worry! they tell me. Do what’s best for you!

Even as I type this, I can’t help but glance over at the precious baby sleeping just five feet from my side. We went on a walk (getting sun is essential for growth!) but not for too long (he’ll get skin cancer!) and he fell asleep in his stroller. I’m plagued with thoughts like should I get him out? (his spine will be deformed) or let him sleep (babies have to get their sleep!) in the stroller –and did I do enough research before I registered for that stroller? Perhaps there could be toxins.

Seemingly every moment has me convinced I am ruining my baby for life as I strive to stay afloat in a world so overloaded with opinions that I don’t know how I’ll possibly make it to shore in one piece. Every third Instagram profile teaches me about new ways I am permanently polluting my son and myself. I am regularly sent podcasts with great conviction (that I very much appreciate!) (from people I very much respect!) whose opinions on a matter couldn’t possibly be more different.

I glance around the room and all I see is doom. We don’t have an organic mattress or a set sleep schedule. I let Luke suck on a strawberry that probably had pesticides, and he accidentally experienced screen time while out to eat last week. I can’t pronounce every word in our sunscreen. And we might opt to send him to public school.

I feel so inundated with information that it’s hard to not live in a semi-constant state of fear and despair. From sleep training to schooling and dish soap to diapering, it’s no wonder many moms feel that we’re always doing something wrong. It’s so easy to vacillate between “know better, do better” and learned helplessness, where I can’t win, so why try?

I’m no opponent to the movements of homesteading or sleep schedules or life without screens. I am, however, not a fan of the fear-mongering. The guilt-tripping. The social-media smear campaign against anyone still wearing perfume. Ultimately, I’m not in favor of elevating earth-side opinions to gospel-level convictions.

Because despite every way the world wants me to worry, here’s what I know: homeschooling won’t get my son into Heaven. An organic mattress won’t grant him eternal rest. There is no amount of toxin-free cleaning products I can purchase that will possibly cleanse him from his sin. At the end of the day, there is only one thing I can truly fall back on: Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners (1 Tim 1:15). He is the perfectly pure and spotless son — the only one who can cleanse us from our unrighteousness.

Our issue isn’t that we have TV time or toxins — it’s that we’re dead in our sins. Rendered completely incapable of saving ourselves apart from the death and resurrection of God Incarnate. Without Jesus, we have no hope of a pure life or clean hearts. “For it is by grace you are saved through faith, and this is not from yourselves. It is God’s gift — not from works, so that no one can boast” (Eph 2:8-9). Despite all the opinions that seem so pressing and all the ways I feel tempted to fear, there is one message that is ultimately urgent: We deserve eternal punishment for our sins, but God sent Jesus to pay what we owe. All who believe in Him — broken by their sin and surrendered to our Savior — will have eternal life with Christ!

I’ll bask in this reality and rest a little easier tonight, refusing to let the clamor of Facebook stir panic in my soul once again. I’ll resist the urge to burn that candle, but I’ll also fall back wholeheartedly on the beautiful truth of the gospel. I’ll do everything I can to protect my baby from poison. But more importantly, I’ll make sure we talk about the poison in our hearts — the sin for which Jesus had to die. I’ll proclaim over and over that there was nothing we could do to cleanse ourselves, but Christ has paid for every failing. We are His forevermore.