The other night, we hosted an Open House. More accurately, Greta hosted an Open House. She opened up our home to the 500 students that live in our building. This involved lots of preparation—most notably, 8 batches of Homemade Oreo cookies. I spent part of that day at home since I could only manage to get a half-day substitute teaching job.
While sitting at home that morning, I looked up and thought, “The dishes really need to be done before tonight.” So I did them. Not much forethought or schedule clearing. Simply saw something that needed to get done, something I could do, and did it. The point of telling this story is not to toot my own horn, but rather to share an interesting conviction I had about the whole episode.
While washing the dishes, listening to Coldplay, I had a very real sense that I was serving my wife. I knew that the dishes had to get done and that Greta sure didn’t have time to do them, but I did. This felt like service. I also had a very real sense that I don’t live the rest of my life this way.
Before I “serve” God—whether through the local church or anywhere else—I often feel I need to check my schedule, insure that the opportunity fits my “gifts,” and, even then, that I won’t be too committed. Why doesn’t my service to God feel as natural, spontaneous and automatic as my response to a sinkful of dirty dishes?
Perhaps, somewhere inside, I misunderstand service. As I do the dishes, I imagine and look forward to Greta coming home, her eyes lighting up and her giving me kisses and telling me how thankful she is that I took the time to do the dishes. As I serve God, I imagine the time I could be spending at home, watching television, studying or doing whatever “I want to do.” Therein lies the problem. My heart is not well tuned to the rhythms of true service.
Such instances tell me that poor motivations inspire me (the praise of others, immediate gratification) and that ultimate motivations (the praise of heaven, lasting joy) seem somehow hollow and unfulfilling. I have a hunch that if I simply threw myself into serving God more often without checking my list to make sure that I’m “available,” my motivations would begin to change. Maybe there really is some truth behind the idea of giving your life away in order to find it.
I know as well as anyone that many ministry opportunities can quickly turn into taxing, soul-sucking endeavors that take and take while giving little, if anything, in return. Thing is, that doesn’t mean that these things don’t need to be done anyway. Believe me, I’m no advocate of simply slaving away for some worthless cause, but we serve a Benevolent Master here. And yet, I continually approach His job openings like a junior high boy approaches a shower.
It is my hope that I will begin to think of serving God the same way I think of doing the dishes. See something that needs to be done and do it, with little thought of motivations and rewards. I have an inkling that such a lifestyle may prove to be its own reward.
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I'm glad to hear of someone else who enjoys serving while enjoying the mellow harmonies of certain English musicians. I knew we were friends for a reason.
I don't know if you've experienced this, but I think I've noticed a bit of a pattern in such things. I might make an attempt to practice some virtue (new to me or in an old one in a new way), and find that there's a corresponding amount of enjoyment or satisfaction. Almost as a rule, though, the second or third time just doesn't seem as rewarding.
I wonder if this is the same as when a parent has a child that matures in some area. At first, you praise the child to encourage them to continue in whatever. After a while though, it would seem a bit too far to give the same amount of praise for something that you know little Timmy can do.
I don't know that I completely agree with this analogy, but this is kind of how I've looked at this in the past. What are your thoughts?
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