Monks and Millionaires

And middle class moms

I have no admiration for monks
They’ve never suffered job loss or lust
Or even a miscommunication
Communication is like, one of the hardest things out there
Monks will never have to carry
The cross of a normal life

I have little admiration for millionaires
And people of the sort
I fear that as treasures cheapen
Grace cheapens with them
Full hands and full bellies
Seldom spell whole hearts

But the middle class mother?
That's where my admiration is at
The proud don’t pity her
Nor do the poor envy her
Even I don’t talk about her
She is average and overlooked
But she takes up her cross cross daily
She is a true disciple

She’s the one who’s done the dirty work
Of reconciling sleepless nights to the cross
And getting up for work the next day
Of thoroughly giving thanks to the Lord
Then cooking dinner and being given none
Of sitting in traffic with crying kids
That’s something monks have never done

There are crosses that monks and millionaires
Will never get the chance to be sanctified by
Things like changing diapers and changing tires
And a thousand other things that we fail to dignify
Things that are hard because they require real faith
Thing like laying up treasures in heaven
When earthly ones are both out of reach and everywhere
Like being anxious about what their kids will eat and drink and wear

Middle class mothers are where it's at
Their holiness is wholly unknown
Let them teach us about faith
Let them teach us how to groan