Routine swallows me up. Before I get wise to it, I've lost an entire week to diapers and dishes and I'm wondering where the great adventure of Christianity is.
I'm ready for big things. I want to reach thousands through a book or a speaking engagement or a study I've written.
I'm writing a book now that feels like it will never see completion. A thousand words a week seem like they are just floating in the air without ownership by any hurting heart. Will they die up there all alone? Will they just float away if no one reads them soon?
I long to see God move.
But the thing is...He's moving and I don't even pay attention to it. He could be tap dancing with flailing arms all over my living room and I wouldn't notice. Because my spiritual eyes are shut and all I can sense is the cold dishwater in front of me.
God is here. He is here in my mess, in your mess. He doesn't just meet me in the madness. He meets me in the mundane as well.
"...to be constantly aware of God's presence, it is necessary to form the habit of continually talking with Him throughout each day. To think that we must abandon conversation with Him in order to deal with the world is incorrect. Instead as we nourish our souls by seeing God in His exaltation, we will derive a great joy at being His."
-The Practice of the Presence of God by brother Lawrence
What a terrifying and beautiful thought.
Brother Lawrence was a monastery cook who mastered the art of constant communion with the Lord. Whether he was alone in his quiet room, or bustling around a loud and busy kitchen, his fellowship with the Lord was always the same. Could you imagine?
It is terrifying for me to know that there is so much of God that I do not experience. A healthy fear I imagine.
And yet, it is so beautiful to know that not only is it possible, but expected of me to never step out of my awareness of His presence...to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). I crave this talent, this gift that brother Lawrence declares we should all strive for.
The laundry basket holds more than whites and colors. It holds breath-taking blessing. What a gift it is that we are fortunate enough to have clothes and clean running water to wash them with while so many suffer the cold and the pain from lack of covering. If I cultivated a deeper sense of God's presence would I still openly complain about our laundry?
The grocery list holds more than 101 ways to make chicken. We have no idea what a luxury it is to be able to walk through a supermarket and pick a box from an entire aisle lined with breakfast cereal while others intimately know the pain of a hunger that never ceases until death. If I were constantly aware of God's hand in my life, would I grumble so loudly about having to drag my three kids through Wal-Mart?
Oh dear God. The lack of you in my life is astounding. It is humbling. It is unacceptable.
Open my eyes sweet Jesus. Show yourself to me in the routine, the mundane, in the mess. Give me a greater sense of your presence in this home and in this life. More of you, less of me.
Open my eyes so wide that I can do nothing but kneel in the magnitude of your grace and power. More of you, less of me Lord.
Help me to find you in the diapers and dishes.