Many people have said to me, 'What a pity you had such a big family to raise. Think of the novels and the short stories and the poems you never had time to write because of that.' 
And I looked at my children and I said, 'These are my poems. These are my short stories. '

- Olga Masters

In regards to this quote, I will never presume to think that I have some amazing journalism skills (like Olga) that are somehow locked up just waiting to be released as soon as my last child is off to wherever children go so their parents can be successful. My skills were just good enough to fill a reporter's job for just short of 2-1/2 years at a very small town newspaper (because no one else applied). By the grace of God, I finished college, got married and attended journalism institute before I brought children into the world. And mercifully, I got my need for employment fulfillment outside the home before my own offspring arrived.

But what I love about that quote is that for Olga her children were much more of a valuable investment of time than those years of writing would have been.

Back in my short years at the newspaper, there was always something to discuss in polite company. Pipestone has some colorful characters, some in dark shades and others in more uplifting shades. By default, I learned a little about a lot of different things and I could converse. People are interested in current and local events.

Then there's raising children. They need food and diaper changes. They need help knowing what is really dangerous, like walking across the road into the neighbors yard and climbing tall ladders to see if they can do it. Like they have since time began. Nothing done in the course of 24 hours is written in publication. At least, for most of us the goal is not to make an appearance in the police news column. And really most people aren't in the least bit interested in the new recipe you made for supper or hearing that you got all the clean clothes put away in an afternoon with not too many interruptions.

More entertaining is hearing about what is going on in the real world.

But several others have done taken up the responsibilities I held at the Star since I left. I was replaceable, completely. But as the mother of my children, I am not replaceable, at least not as easily. That is not to say that many others could be far more efficient with the laundry, food preparation and cleaning. And many more would be far more effective at effective discipline measures regarding sleep and chores.

Still, somebody must be responsible for raising my children. They aren't like house dogs or hogs in a pen that just need to be fed on a regular basis. And oh what a weighty assignment it is!

Sin drenches every part of this life. Temptation to pursue what feels good lurks commonly. And I, as  redeemed but oh so prone to wander, attempt to direct my children away from what causes me and them to stumble, while tripping frequently. I cannot ensure that my children will never make mistakes. But if living a more simple life, doing my best to maintain the communication between my Father and my children's father, lets us release them into adulthood with a minimum of emotional baggage, I will humbly consider that success.