Are you. . .
You can't follow Christ without taking up your cross. And crosses come in all shapes and sizes.
He smiles.
Angels watch in amazement that such a sinner can be so transformed by Christ's power. Satan slinks away in shame. Epic, spiritual wars are raging in the air around you. Unseen forces are at work in your life. You have decisions to make and those difficult choices will determine which spiritual entity will win that particular battle. Prepare yourself to follow Christ into places aromatic with sacrifice and abundant with suffering. It is there that you will find Him. It is there that you will come to know Him. "That I may know Him. . . and the fellowship of his sufferings." Fellowship is so much sweeter in the context of follow-ship. Can we obey Christ's example of serving others through our hospitality? I forfeited a chance to model Christ.
I am grieving about it. There He stands, my precious Lord, asking so little of me. "Wash their feet, Laura," He says, as He sends people to me to shelter or feed. Always it is my own family. Sometimes it is other people's children. Sometimes it has been a widow, or a foreigner, or another missionary. Sometimes it is a whole family, or a whole mission team. Sometimes He sends large groups of people and, although I fall into bed exhausted every night and wake up again still tired, the fellowship with other believers is so stunning in all its manifold blessings that I frankly don't care. Recently He sent me some guests and half of our household was sick with a stomach virus. I was busy emptying my children's basins all night long. I was tired. I was rather sick myself. Yet there is no excuse for my selfishness in refusing to help one of my guests. When I saw his basin needed to be cleaned, I left it for him to empty. When I saw his laundry piled high, I left it for him to do. After all, I'm a busy mom. I have my own children to care for. So I neglected one of HIS children in their time of greatest need. "Feed my sheep," my Lord reminds me. And, "You ought to wash one another's feet." I don't think His command to wash other people's feet is really understood today. A few people today practice foot washing, but usually it is a token ceremony done in a pristine church building. We have clean roads and clean parking lots and socks and shoes in which to walk to those pristine buildings. Jesus and his disciples walked through muck. . .in sandals. After one such journey the Lord Of All The Earth wrapped a towel around himself, filled a basin and knelt to wash twelve pairs of filthy feet. And when He came to the Betrayer, whose greed was in fact idolatry, Christ did not hesitate. He lovingly took those feet also and washed them. Surely He grieved as He watched the filth come off the soles of that man but remain in his soul. Find those who need it most and wash their feet. We love to serve others in fun ways. "You need someone to take the guest speaker out for ice cream after church, Pastor? Sure, we'll do it!" But. . . "House a family with four kids for a week? Er, sorry, we just aren't set up for that." People have washed our feet in so many ways:
We will never forget these people. They are fulfilling Christ's command in a marvelous, self-sacrificing way. They are modeling Christ for the world. "You ought to wash one another's feet." I wish I could turn the clock back. I want another chance to model Christ in a difficult way. Maybe He will give me that chance. But in the meantime, if you will excuse me, I have some laundry to do for our guests. Our Monopoly box is in tatters.
Only if you knew my husband and me very well would you understand how much that would bother us. Tim is a detail man who hates messes. I have snarky housekeeping tendencies which cause me a bit of stress when it comes to game pieces left under the couch or Hardy Boys books being re-shelved with Nancy Drew. So when I see that the Monopoly box lid is coming apart in a big way, my blood pressure goes up TO THERE. For about 3 minutes. Until I remember the reason for that. Later I ask my husband, "Did you see that the Monopoly box is broken now?" I try to make it a casual question, but he stops his studying, pushes his chair back from his desk, and eyes me carefully. "Yes," he says. And then he sighs. "I noticed it a couple of days ago." At times it is a bit trying for two micro-managers to have 6 active children. "But," he says, drawing out the word for about 5 seconds, "We can be thankful that they are playing games together." I smile at him. We are on the same page. This is the one of the benefits of a messy game closet: while many kids their age are playing video games or surfing the internet on their cell phones, ours are holed up in their bedroom for hours on end, conquering the world through Monopoly, Stratego, or Risk. I am not completely opposed to computer games. My kids used to play them. They were even used as rewards for good behavior. In our house, we favored educational games like Oregon Trail and Brain Play. But sometime about two years ago I took them all away. Why?
Thus, the Monopoly box is broken. And, in spite of my snarky housekeeping tendencies, I am thrilled. Here's why:
Okay, so the whole "life skills of compromise and negotiation" thing is still in progress. But the political practices of Putin proves that these are things better learned when you are a child. So we will keep working at it. And in the meanwhile, I am reminding myself to smile when I find Risk pieces under the table or the piano is piled high with music books or another game box needs to be taped. Because I am nurturing gifted children, not growing a crop of computer game addicts. I will pay the price. I am a mom with a mission. Are you scrutinizing your lifestyle choices for ways to redeem the time in the lives of your children? What difficult decisions have you made on their behalf? |
Tim and LauraTimothy and Laura Berrey are missionaries with Gospel Fellowship Association. They share a passion for missions which has taken them to several countries in Africa, Asia, and Europe. They currently minister in the Philippines. Want articles like this delivered to your inbox?
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