My four-year-old, Noah, has become fascinated with the biblical story of Jacob and Esau, which we have on CD, in a dramatized-for-kids version.  "Mommy, what's a birfwight?"  he asked me the other day, in his cute, lisping, "I'm not quite grownup," little boy voice.  I searched hesitantly in my mind for an explanation.  "Um, it's a lot-a lotta, lot of money."  I finally explained.  For him, a quarter was a great deal of money.  I had a fleeting vision of quarters and dimes dancing around in his little head.  "Oh."  He said softly. 

I always thought the Bible gave Jacob too much credit.  He was kind of a jerk, grabbing Esau's heel, stealing the birthright, deceptively obtaining the blessing.  One would think Esau would be the one to get more credit.  At the end of all of the twisted drama, Esau forgave his brother, choosing family, forgiveness, and brotherhood over bitterness and revenge.  However, on second glance, I think there was something Jehovah intuitively admired about Jacob's perseverance, his go-get-it mentality, his ambition, and his daring perseverance.  It's something we working mothers know a lot about, perseverance, and forgiveness, the kind of forgiveness you have to muster when your three-year-old wipes yogurt on your suit right before an interview.  Have you ever tried to remove yogurt from a pinstripe suit?  IWe know about the kind of forgiveness and grace we have to muster when we are attacking a project and our seven-year-old comes down with pneumonia.  Suddenly our priorities change, beyond our control or capacity to will things to be different.  Working motherhood takes calm.  It requires from us poise, graciousness, the ability to devote ourselves to our families and our jobs with equal skill.  It takes a little Jacob, the ability to go for the money no matter what, but a whole lot of Esau, a whole lot of forgetting the past. 

Maybe it takes forgetting yesterday.  Maybe it demands that we forget the failures of yesterday, the coworker who pushed us out of that higher-salaried position we applied for, the child who came down yesterday with a stomach bug, causing us to call in sick or have a less productive day.  Motherhood calls us to push on to today with renewed hope.  Because in the end I believe it was Esau, and not just Jacob, who received the blessing, Esau who chose brotherhood over hate, Esau who realized that family was more important than all of the wealth and status he could ever attain, that love was better than lentils, ultimately.  

As I ponder my two beautiful boys and my life, I consider them my highest achievement.  I wouldn't trade anything for them.  I'll take the ups and downs, the hardships, the sacrifices, and yes, even the loss of some career opportunities.  I'll have time for that later.  I'll take the blessing; you can keep the lentils.