Our Lady of the Living Room Floor

Our Lady of the Living Room Floor

By the low light of the baby monitor,
she removes her makeup and
recalls the shining successes of her friends
as they gathered around the table that night:
their new jobs and promotions,
the annual review meetings,
the conference next week in California.
At the far end of the table,
she’d sat silently recalling her own afternoon,
the 27 minutes she’d spent
searching for her son’s lost Ninja Turtle.
No, not THAT one.
The one with the ORANGE headband.

Earlier that week at the dentist’s office,
she’d once again written
on the form under Employer:
for her work consists of
clipping tiny fingernails
and peeling carrots
and reading
Brown Bear, Brown Bear
at least four times a day,
And really, is any of that applicable?

Her world is small, her people smaller,
but the reaches of
Our Lady of the Living Room Floor
will be immeasurable.
Because love,
intricate and true,
is spelled out in the
grapes that she has cut into
impossibly tiny pieces,
Handed one by one to her daughter,
and sermons on patience delivered
as she watches her son
triumphantly climb the steps of King Candy’s
castle for the 157th time.

She is a resounding echo of He who entered
the very world He had created
to primarily focus on just 12 men,
their dirty feet and repetitive questions.
His calling was not greater
than to notice the tug at His hem,
and mercifully,
to turn.

Her own hem is smeared with
peanut butter fingerprints,
and day after day,
she too turns
to the ones who tug,
the ones who ask,
the ones who need.
A conduit of Love.
A glimpse of Glory.
Her world is small,
her people smaller
but the task at hand immense.

Copyright © 2023 Elizabeth Berget

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Elizabeth Berget is a mama to three who has always done her best thinking while writing—from her angsty teenage journals until now. She’s lived in Africa and Asia but is really just a country mouse with a Minneapolis zip code. She primarily writes about the image of God as seen in motherhood, mining theological gems from the everyday trenches of diapers and dishes. She has been previously published on Coffee+Crumbs, The Joyful Life, and in other publications. Connect with her on Instagram @elizabeth_a_berget or at elizabethberget.substack.com, where you can subscribe to her Substack, Back of the Flock.


  1. LeAnne on 11 February 2024 at 1:07 pm

    What a beautiful illumination of the nature of ministry. Thank you for sharing your gift.

  2. Elizabeth Berget on 11 February 2024 at 7:55 am

    Megan, I’m so glad that these words resonated! I pray they spur you on to do all the tiny works of motherhood with great love and that you will know that God mercifully turns each time you tug on the hem too.

  3. Megan Hogg on 11 February 2024 at 7:32 am

    Wow, Elizabeth. What a masterpiece. This was so moving to me! Especially this reminder:

    “His calling was not greater
    than to notice the tug at His hem,
    and mercifully,
    to turn.”

    Thank you for the gift of your words.

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