Where the Wild Things Are

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Current revision as of 19:02, 3 December 2025

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4)

Believe it or not, this text teaches us about parenting. It’s about the household.

Specifically, it can volunteer as a life verse for some mothers with young children. The more vivacious and colorful your children’s personalities or the more allergic to tidiness and sedentary play, the timelier this verse comes to your soul. Mothers who live on the cul-de-sac of Wit’s End, perhaps mothers with several precious boys — you know who you are — let the word of God cut to the heart of unrealistic expectations and bestow peace. We can rewrite the principle like this: “Where no children are, the house is clean.”

The Less Clean Home

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean. Where no beasts frequent the stable, the stable remains pristine. When kennels do not have pets, when nests do not have birds, when rooms do not have children, cleanliness is stress-free. Management of a household is easier when those under your management do not spend portions of their day undoing what you have done.

When solely considering the tidiness of a house, young children are mutineers, conspirators, saboteurs. Their creativity rarely surfaces so fully, so consistently, so impressively as when they devise new schemes to make messy what once was clean. In the blink of an eye, they color the walls and ceiling as the Sistine Chapel. With military precision, they leave Legos strewn across the floor as landmines to be discovered in the dead of night. They glue together what God never meant to be joined. And they coordinate their attacks, never better friends than when sowing chaos. If every mother dreams of spotless living rooms, uncluttered kitchens, and sparkling bathrooms — no child shares this dream.

Where no children are, the house is clean. Where no wild things are, the van has better resale value, the yard is not landscaped with toys, the toilet seats need little wiping, and the house is not perpetually in a “used” condition. The principle here assumes that where these little bundles of joy roam, the house will be less kept. More work exists in a full house — especially when the children are younger and clustered together. We discipline — we teach them to clean up and give them boundaries not to be crossed by pen or permanent marker — yet they are children still. They make messes with greater efficiency than most of us clean up.

So let’s talk about it: your expectations for your household. Perfectionists, are we accounting for who is living in our house? Where no oxen are, the manger is clean; where many oxen are, the crib is, well, less clean. Trouble comes when those who have oxen in their homes have oxen-free standards of cleanliness.

Oh, you Marthas, you are anxious about many things. And with each new child, new anxieties crouch at your door. Their desire is for you. You have new responsibilities and less time to continue old responsibilities. Many of you are worthy women, “the wisest of women builds her house” (Proverbs 14:1). But breathe, dear sister, dear mother. With littles, the house cannot be kept ready for a photoshoot.

Now, I do not mean to intrude on your home. Speak with your husband and talk over expectations. My wife and I profited from discussing what our standards should be for our home in this season of life. In this season of life is key.

In my small survey, it seems that a wife often labors under a standard far surpassing that of her husband — perhaps with an eye to other women visiting. Thus the proverb’s relief. Wisdom presumes what is obvious: More creatures in the stable means more mess, which means more work, which means less ability to keep things looking untouched. The household aesthetic is part of the “cost” of precious littles. But when the temptation comes to live by Pinterest ideals, the proverb reminds us the tiny clutterers are worth it.

The Abundant Home

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4)

Overwhelmed mothers, you are tired because mothering is hard, but remember your blessing. The pews are filled with young, middle-aged, and older women who would love to take your place. They would trade babies for tidy beds. The quiet and kept house can be a sadness to them. Either their nests have emptied — only beautiful memories of messiness remain — or their nests never held baby birds.

How they long to hear the chirping again. Young mothers, I have it on good authority that if you live long enough, you will come to miss these days of blessed inefficiency. Keep perspective among the fog.

The emphasis is placed upon the second part of the proverb: Mess and hard work come with oxen, yes, but with abundant crops also. Life may be messier, but our lives are mightier. Children, as the ox, add strength to us after many years of investment. As we train them in the fear of our Lord, and as he too trains them in the fear of the Lord, they become productive members of the household and society. They always added joy to us; now they add increase. We gladly sacrifice comfort and spotless homes for the far greater treasure of having children — not oxen but undying souls.

Many in the younger generation fail to believe children are assets. They view them as liabilities; children murder free time and clutter lives. The dog is less needy, they reason; its kennel is easier to clean and its life less demanding. And dogs live shorter lives, and are simpler to remove. So, fertile couples raise their child-dog as a family member instead of kids. But, as the Life Application Study Bible adds, “The only way to keep your life free of people problems is to keep it free of people. But if your life is empty of people, it is useless; and if you live only for yourself, your life loses its meaning. . . . Is your life clean but empty?”

Our lives will be messier. Our plans will be derailed; our nights unexpectedly devoured. We will often pay the cost of undivided friendships, free time, and nights spent only with our spouses. But it is worth it. Children are an investment that leads to abundance in the end.

Father’s Home

These days too shall pass, I’m told. The days are coming when the kids can get themselves in the car and make themselves breakfast. They will be able to use the bathroom during the sermon and clean up their own rooms without adding confusion to the chaos. And on that day, when we can gather around the table and eat without boosters and highchairs and bibs, we will be able to bear witness to our Lord’s goodness and faithfulness to give us each other.

In those days of independence, we will look back fondly on their dependence. And by God’s grace, we will give thanks for seasons of what felt like unpleasant work, because it reaped a harvest. Increase and abundance will beautify the memory of uncleanness and disorder. Until then, the manger and the house and the car are less clean than we would like.

As a parting thought, consider our theme in light of God’s heart, which moved him to make this fallen world his home. He could have avoided this whole mess of sin and death and redemption; he could have spared his Son and populated the earth with puppies — if only he never made us. But he did make us. The earth could have been kept clean of wars and ugliness and pollution if only he had ended all with the flood. Where no people or fallen angels are, the earth is as clean as heaven.

But God endured, overcame, and brought forth eternal abundance. Christ took upon himself our sin that we might take upon ourselves his perfect purity. In its own small way, our happy parenting over a realm less clean than it ought to be — than it will be someday — joins in as a faint echo of that perfect story.