Monday, October 10, 2016

When Home is Hard, Part 2 - Coming Home, Day #9

(If you want to feel better about yourself as a person who is calm and in control, consider reading yesterday's When Home is Hard, Part 1 before embarking here on  the conclusion.  I promise, you'll think you are a superhero with a side of "centered yogi" compared to me and my dog outburst!)

When last I left you yesterday, I had just had an outburst with my son after my 7 month old Husky-Lab mix, Faith, helped herself to a hearty portion of "pizza lick."
I was feeling sad and angry and frustrated with my lot in life of late.
I exclaimed, "I was meant for more than this.  I'm just a glorified janitor."

"What's wrong with being a janitor?" I immediately asked myself after apologizing to Braden.  
I've never been opposed to working with my hands or laborious jobs before.
I cleaned an office from 7th - 11th grades as a way to save money for the future.
I opened a bakery every weekday morning at 5AM my freshman year to sustain my studies and travels.
I babysat for years before caring for my own infants-to-toddlers.
(Lord knows that's not a clean job!  It's rewarding.  But NOT clean.  
I spent many a Friday night covered in spit-up and dirty diapers.)
So what, I wondered, was the difference?

Awareness dawned with the question.
This past week, I felt serving others was ALL I was doing.
I wasn't publishing a book.
I wasn't creating a business.
I wasn't in the classroom changing lives.
I wasn't contributing to society, being "liked" for my statuses or Pinterest worthy creativity.
I was simply serving.
And once I recognized that was the root of suffering, well...
Things went from bad to worse.

I was covered in shame.

For Jesus...
The Way, the Truth and the Life...(John 14:6)
The Alpha and the Omega...
The First and the Last; the Beginning and the End... (Rev: 22:13)
Two nights before understanding he was to die on a cross...
- a suffering so much more dire than what I have experienced this past year -
removed his outer clothing, wrapped a towel around His waist, got down on His knees and washed the feet of His disciples.
The King of Kings made Himself bare and served those who followed Him.

How, oh how, in my human indignation, could I possibly think - even in one second of weakness - that I was meant for more, for a greater purpose, than that of Jesus Christ?

"12 When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. 13 “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. 14 Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. 15 I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. 16 Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. 17 Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." - John 13: 12-17 (NIV)

For too long I have felt the weight of service.
Instead, all of those long-suffering, difficult months, I could have been cherishing the blessing of service.
Serving those I love,
Serving those in my home and family.
Being a messenger of love and sacrifice for all around me.

I don't need to write a book.
Or own a business.
Or ever, for one moment, teach in a classroom again if Jesus needs me to learn another lesson.
Those things may come.
I'm perhaps even meant to live them.
But today - and until He shows me differently - I'm meant for being His hands and feet here on Earth.
To lean on Him and understand He is moving that broom back and forth for me while He heals my heart.

God, help me to be the most gracious servant imaginable.

{Thanks for reading.} 

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