Accepting An Undesirable Invitation

 

“Even if what you are doing today isn’t visible, it’s still valuable.”

Holly Gerth

From my writing desk in our little guest room I look out the window to the tangerine tree. We are blessed to have beautiful, ripening tangerines grow in our yard. There aren’t too many this year but it’s always a sweet treat. The day is gray and chilly and I am struggling not to be distracted by frustration about something that seems unfair. If I look at the big picture – God’s eternal plan – then the energy put into fuming over the interruption is not worth a second of my time. Yet here I sit, scrunched brows, fighting to let it go.

This requires facing the elements. I head outside for a walk in the blustery weather. I need to release the tightness in my body and talk to Jesus. As I pour out my frustrations and ask Him to help me to see the situation in a better light I am reminded of foot washing. Yep, cleaning stinky feet. The task that felt unfairly placed on me is an opportunity for “washing feet”. These undesirable invitations for serving aren’t always delightful nor do they always come at an ideal time but the job needs done.

Timothy Keller preached these words, “Washing feet has to do with showing a concern for peoples’ comforts and concern for peoples’ needs.” This past year I have prayed for God to help me consent to whatever He brings, not just resign myself but actually trust Him with what is best and take it on willingly. In this situation it means I have to let the one other person who could have done this off the hook with a big dollop of grace.

The kinds of tasks equal to washing feet aren’t hard. They are usually easy and ordinary. It’s just that sometimes, or maybe often, I don’t like to be inconvenienced. I don’t want to give up doing what I want, to do what God invites me to do. But it’s an invitation. Invitations are usually a sign that something purposeful and meaningful will happen. I may not see fireworks or make a toast in acceptance of this invitation but it’s a blessing to serve. It is an opportunity to glorify God because these are simple acts that reflect Christ in us.

Ordinary (adj) lacking special distinction, rank, or status: commonly encountered

One day last week I was meditating on Jesus. Pictures floated through my mind as I thought of various stories of Jesus’s ministry. Later I wrote about what I recognized; Jesus did lots of ordinary tasks during these years. He cooked, He made arrangements, He fed people, He washed feet, and He held children in His arms and blessed them. As He moved from town to town sharing the kingdom of God He was stopped numerous times by someone calling out to Him, touching His robe, dropping in front of Him to pour out a need, and He was intercepted by a funeral. All these “interruptions” mattered to Him. This is Kingdom work.

Jesus notices. He sees. He stops for conversation. He looks directly into eyes. He touches. He eats and tells stories around the table. Why are these simple, loving acts so hard for us to consider worth our time? So often acts of service go unnoticed. I don’t know about you but I enjoy being appreciated for what I do. The desire howls within me insisting I take the most important job. Over time I have discovered when I do the necessary ordinary not only do I bless someone but I am transformed in the process; my love for others grows and life becomes more meaningful. It’s within these tender acts connection is formed.

In recognizing I was invited to “wash feet” it occurred to me the many ways Jesus provided a “foot washing” for me. I remember Jesus washing the disciples feet, a necessary tasks no one else was willing to do. Jesus even washed the feet of one who betrayed Him. I am not above “foot washing” tasks. I am not too good for them. More and more I want to embrace these interruptions as meaningful acts of service. I am undone when I picture Jesus kneeling before His disciples’ dirty feet, before my dirty feet, and lovingly washing them. How can I do less?

I have been in and out since beginning this post and what came of the walk that blustery day was a willingness to serve a need that first felt like an interruption. The experience left stretch marks as my attitude, with the Spirit’s help, was transformed. Not only did I consent but my awareness of the Spirit’s prompting was sharpened. It isn’t my doing. Yet the daily discipline of being with Jesus, reading the Word and prayer are the disciplines opening me to His work. Without these I would quickly become dull and numb to all around me. He has invited me to pay attention and spiritual disciplines tune my heart to His so I am moved to joyfully receive those invitations.

Some may ask, “How do you know when the invitation is from God?” I seek the wisdom of the Holy Spirit to know if it is God’s invitation and not someone else playing god in my life. If someone is putting pressure on me and manipulating me it is not from God. God does not guilt us into serving; He invites. There are opportunities that arise which are genuine needs in someone’s life and I am the only one aware and available to help. I know these are of God.

What interruptions have become invitations for “washing feet”, opportunities to tend to the needs of those around you? I would love to hear how God is shifting your thoughts on the value of ordinary tasks. Every invitation accepted to serve willingly glorifies God and draws others into His eternal kingdom. Oh how I long to be more willing.

 

It has been awhile since I posted. With all the challenges of the pandemic, the horrendous political climate, and deep sorrow stirred in 2020, so much of the time I found it difficult to write something coherent to completion. Which is sad; I love writing, especially writing to you. I appreciate all of you who read this blog. Thanks for being here. I thought I would get this out before the end of the year but as you can see I did not. So as we slip into 2021 hoping for life to get back to normal, whatever that may be, I want to share some gentle thoughts with you.

 

This post is inspired by The Mending Life: A Handbook for Repairing Clothes and Hearts by sisters Nina and Sonya Montenegro. The book opens with these words:

We all wear clothes.

These clothes

tatter,

tear,

split,

run,

rip,

unravel,

spring holes.

Things fall apart.

But we are gifted with hands that

sew,

mend,

fasten,

pin,

glue,

weave,

darn.

Things come back together.

Wounds heal.

Hearts forgive and deepen with compassion.

Mending is a part of life.

Right away I was moved by their expansive view of mending. Does anyone else tear up thinking about 2020 and all the pain that exposed old wounds as well as inflict new ones? So many turned away from one another ripping big holes in hearts and relationships and in our nation. This is not about government; it is too personal. It’s about how we want change but often are not willing to sit down and mend torn places.

The Montenegro sisters say it so well. “At first glance, mending may seem inconsequential, but not only does it mean buying fewer clothes (thus slowing down the fast fashion cycle), it also invites us into a new way of being. Mending is a powerful act of restoration, both for our clothes and for our relationship to the world. . . . Making something whole again is also a form of healing, and we have a deep desire to heal what is broken. . . . We may even begin to see opportunities for healing: we can make amends with someone we’re at odds with, we can restore fertility to degraded soil, we can create a thriving urban oasis for pollinators, and with each small act, our broken hearts begin to heal in turn. . . . We need more fix-it shops! Owned by moms & pops. Places of resurrection, second lives, second chances, thirds, fourths, fifths . . .”

The Bible has a few things to say about mending. In Colossians 1:19-20 Paul writes, “For God was pleased to have all His fullness dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross.” Christ’s tattered skin pressed up against the splintered wood of the Cross restored our broken relationship with God. Restore means “to repair, rebuild, renew. To restore is to return something to it’s original or usable and functioning condition. Restore can mean to return to life; get or give new life.” Believing Jesus to be God’s Son and following Him gives us new life. Through Christ we are restored to our original condition – in relationship with God.

The Bible says in 2 Corinthians 5:18, those of us who have been reconciled in Christ are given the ministry of reconciliation. Reconcile means to restore and restore means: “to restore by replacing a part or putting together what is torn or broken (Synonyms: repair/mend).” Mending is a part of life.

 

Mending cannot restore to the original condition but it does restore to a usable and functioning condition. This personal act can only be done one to another. Though scars may remain from a mended tear, mending can restore a relationship – making it stronger. This plays out in our torn and tattered culture. How can we begin to make steps towards mending? What can each of us do to make amends in the communities in which we are planted? What a difference it would make if we all recognized that mending is part of life and each has a part to play restoring relationship with God, with one another, and with the natural world.

Colossians 1:20 (The Message)

“. . . but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe – people and things, animals and atoms – get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood poured down from the cross.”

Believers aren’t better but we are given the responsibility of leading in the ministry of mending. I am praying about how I can be one who mends in 2021 and taking the next step. Want to join me? Let’s put a new face on 2021 and invest in healing, reconciliation, and repairs. What will this look like for you? What are some things or relationships you mended in 2020?