Ordinary Faithfulness

Being faithful isn't glamorous.

It looks a lot like changing dirty diapers. And waking up with a sleeping baby in the morning's wee hours.

It looks a lot like waking up when the alarm goes off to read some scripture before heading off to work.

It looks a lot like practice, and not a lot like performance.

It looks a lot like doing the same things over and over.

But it's easy to be addicted to the high of the next big thing.

Geoff reminded me recently that not everything I write has to be amazing, or as some would say, "epic."  The important thing is that I'm practicing, and seeking to share with others whatever the Lord has given me to share. And the same is true for all of life. Not everything we do, not everything we contribute to the world has to be amazing. And that's good news, because it's doubtful that even a little of what we do will be all that grandiose, at least in the ways we're accustomed to thinking of grandness. The important thing is that we are being faithful in the spheres we've been given to tend, that the little plots we have stay watered and as lovely as we can make them. Watering is a fairly mundane task, but diligently tended yards are usually the most enjoyable to look at and spend time in.

The other day, I read this from Proverbs Twenty-four:

I passed by the field of a sluggard,
by the vineyard of a man lacking sense,
and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns;
the ground was covered with nettles,
and its stone wall was broken down.
Then I saw and considered it;
I looked and received instruction.
A little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to rest,
and poverty will come upon you like a robber,
and want like an armed man. (vs.30-34).

In the margin I wrote the word Stewardship, because these verses speak to me not only of avoiding the poverty of an empty bank account, but of the tragedy of a wasted life. I've been trying to read a chapter from Proverbs every day for a while now, and every 24th of the month that I read these words they seem to be written directly to me, because I know there are some thorns and nettles in my vineyard that need to be dealt with. But often, I over-complicate matters. Instead of tending to the thorns and nettles by faithful work in the things I've been called to, I become paralyzed. Sometimes I opt for literal sleep (hitting snooze a few too many times), and sometimes the sleep of mindless activity. I am often like the sluggard of another Proverb that says, "There is a lion in the road! There is a lion in the streets!" (26:13). Many excuses can be made when it comes to 1. facing our fears, and 2. doing the hard, and sometimes monotonous work of stewarding our lives well.

So, my encouragement for you and for me is simple:

Press on through the ordinary stuff of today. Press on when practice is frustrating and unexciting. Press on, not only for the reward that will come in the end, but for the joy of knowing you're being faithful today.

 "...He [Jesus] died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves, but for him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Corinthians 5:15).  For him, faithfulness wasn't glamorous either. It looked a lot like a cross. And that cross gave us access to a deluge of grace, a grace that is still unequivocally available even on our least faithful days. But did you catch what this passage says about why he died? So that we would no longer live for ourselves, but for him. That means he gets our stuff. That means he calls the shots with our time and our talents. That means we have the awesome privilege of living in loyalty to the greatest Teacher, the greatest Friend, the greatest King who ever lived, and not only died, but was raised. We get to join him in his mission on the earth, and he has chosen to use not perfect, but faithful people who will change diapers and meet deadlines, and write poems, and paint, and teach, and do all that we do in a way that says, "Look at my King! He is great!" And as we do, we'll hear the echo in our own hearts saying Yes, Yes He is. I have a great King.

Not surprisingly, I'm hearing it louder even now...