My scrambled eggs fell into my tea today. Mushrooms and all. I sighed, fished them out with a fork and drank it anyway. Life is spattered with little crazy moments. Like last night around 11PM, when I overheard some men talking outside about a black rabbit. I went out to ask them about it, and sure enough, Toby had escaped again. The next fifteen minutes were spent prancing up and down the street with Matthew, in our bare feet, trying to catch him. Then a friend drove by just in time to see our barefoot-dancing in the street.
I love punctuated moments, like a flourish of red paint on a white wall.
As much as I love the splash of red to dispel the boring, our Father is the expert of dulling put big moments judiciously. He lets our hearts and minds rest from one peak to another, as we hang out in the valleys of life, or hike gently uphill.
He knows we couldn’t handle the mountain peaks forever. Not in our current state of humanness. We would either die by so much amazement, or we would cease to appreciate the amazing.
I was reminded today that our life isn’t always about the big things. Jesus did many big things, but they were mere exclamation points in a steady life of normal. He walked, He talked, He cooked, He ate, He slept, He prayed. He didn’t heal every person who lived while He lived. He didn’t raise every dead person to life. He lived life and then He gave His all away.
He tempers the crazy moments so we can bear up under them. He graces us with reprieve. Like childbirth, hard times don’t go on forever, and they are never without reward.
This morning I read this quote by Oswald Chambers. The greatest hindrance in our spiritual life is that we will only look for big things to do. Yet, “Jesus… Took a towel and… Began to wash the disciples’ feet.” (John 13:3-5)
Sometimes we feel like we deserve to have life handed to us on a beautiful platter. No more pain. No more sickness. No more debt. No more messes. No problems, please and thank you. Yet Jesus didn’t come to make dust magically disappear from off of the disciples tired feet. That would have been pretty grand, but Jesus was about humility. He was not above washing those tired, nasty, smelly, feet, when He too was probably exhausted after a long day’s walk.
As I wash little hands, scrub grimy tubs, wipe table tops and sweep filthy floors, that verse has been pinging back in my head. Jesus took a towel…
In this scrambled life, full of mountaintops and valleys, I can also take a towel and become less.