Waking Up To A Sacred Life
{On an airplane today … Delighted to share this must-read treasure with you from my fellow writer-mommy and longtime friend, Caila.}
Thank you, Kari, for the chance to be here today! I’m so excited to “meet” all your lovely readers. 🙂
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It was April and I was three months pregnant, staring at a mountain of dishes. My three year old boy was playing in his room, my darling one year old girl at my feet. I think I was even looking out the window at a beautiful, sunny day. Nothing really to complain about. Nothing except the aching sense of despair I felt inside. Despair at the never-ending uselessness of it all.
Does that sound extreme? Am I shocking you with this?
I was a mother of two, then –now three– in love with my husband, in love with my children and outwardly happy. But first trimester hormones were ravaging my emotions and my husband’s second year in Nursing school was not helping things. You know how sometimes the most damaging hardships are the ones that drag on and on and on? Even though you know the end will come you just can’t see it. That was me, last April.
We are coming on a year since I stared at that sink of dirty dishes and said these very words in a silent prayer, “If this is my life for the next 18 years, I simply can’t stand it.”
There. The words were out. “I can’t stand it.”
The crisis of my life, spoken over lunch dishes and soapy water. If I love my children and my husband so much, why am I so miserable, Lord? I know I have NOTHING to complain about.Why do I feel so tired and useless?
The truth, although I was too tangled up at the time to see it, was that I had been believing a lie for a very long time. A subtle lie, an insistent lie. It was this:
My work has very little value. Most of it is boring, mundane. Nobody cares about what I do unless it’s not done.
Do you recognize it? Have you, perhaps, heard it before? Even believed it? If so, you aren’t alone.
It was this nagging sense of failure, uselessness, that put me in front of the dishes, crying out to God for help. I went back to the Bible again, and he began to answer. I prayed. I came back to Kari’s blog where there were words again of encouragement. “If anything matters, everything matters.” “The altar sanctifies the gift.” The sacred in the mundane.
It woke me up.
My mundane tasks can be sacred? Valuable? It can actually mean something to clean a toilet? Put the laundry away? These things can be more than tasks, more than another tick on the never-ending To Do list?
I love my children and I want to teach them, enjoy them, value them. I do not want to be discouraged by the hard work that comes along with caring for their little bodies and souls. I don’t want it to mean nothing. I want it all to mean something. Even the mundane–I want it to matter!
That was the truth. I wanted the mundane to matter! How much of life is playing out in the sandbox, or wiping a tear, compared with the daily tasks of living–cleaning bodies, clothing bodies, feeding bodies, washing up after bodies? If those things don’t matter, then so much of our time is wasted. But if those things do matter…just think of it! Teaching my children while doing the dishes, praying on bended knee while cleaning the toilet. Just enjoying each moment of life. What a miracle that would be!
So I tried it. I cooked, I cleaned, I Googled recipes, I read parenting books. I immersed myself in this life of motherhood. And this is what I’ve learned.
The value of your work is not found in what you earn. It’s in the very act of doing the work. And it seems to me that certain kinds of work are especially valuable when you are doing it, not for yourself, but for someone else.
I can’t tell you how much I’ve changed over the past year. Maybe it’s only on the inside; I couldn’t tell you if others see it on the outside. I know my family is happier. I am so honest-to-goodness content with my life I can’t believe I ever stared at those dishes and said, “I can’t stand it.”
Because I know each moment of these days is precious. I have only one life and 30 years of it are already gone and I will not allow any of it to be without value. My children, oh those beautiful, blue-eyed children, they are worth this. My husband, that good man, he is worth this.
And God, who values the motivation of my heart above the productivity of my hands, he is worth this as well.
Dear sisters, I hope you find value in the work you do today. Remember that even those dreams that seem wasted for Him are never really lost. He uses it all, each little piece.Â
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Caila Murphy is a mother to three, married to the love of her life, who loves to sew and write. She blends these two passions together at Caila-Made, where she shares tutorials and chronicles the ins and outs of this beautiful, crazy life.
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*Do you have a testimony of how God revealed the sacred in the midst of your mundane? Would you consider sharing it with us? Let me know here…
You and I, the blind and the blemished … perfected.
Leviticus really bothered me for the longest time.  And it is a little disturbing to read through.  Once you finally come up for air after drowning in the sea of bodily discharge and nakedness (Lev. 15), you surface only to find that God is talking about refusing to allow any blemished or blind or lame or hunchback or dwarf come near to offer the LORD’s sacrifice on the altar (21:16-23).  In fact, it says
“No one who has a blemish shall draw near, a man blind or lame, or one who has a mutilated face or a limb too long, or a man who has an injured foot or an injured hand…or an itching disease or scabs or crushed testicles…shall come near to offer the LORD’s food offerings” (19-21).
Come on, what’s the deal with this?
Every time I’d read through this I admit I struggle, “This is exactly why people get such a bad image of God through the OT. I mean, come on God, why’d You have to make yourself sound so mean?  It’s not as if a hunchback is a bad person, why are you purposely excluding them from offering sacrifices, and did you have to mention testicles for crying out loud?  And what’s wrong with someone having one long limb?? The atheists are going to love poking fun at this passage.” *Sigh* I didn’t get it.
And it still is a rough read. Again this morning I still struggle through it. There’s plenty in Leviticus to struggle through. But take heart.
We have to keep in mind that it wasn’t only these who were excluded from offering sacrifices, of course.  The vast majority were excluded. Only the priests (those descendants of Levi) were allowed to even be in the priesthood, and then only those apparently without these unfortunate conditions were allowed to approach the altar to offer sacrifices.  There were many other exclusions besides just these bothersome ones that I mentioned.  So we have to understand that the norm was exclusion.
The norm in this culture, for the nation of Israel was one of exclusion. Most were excluded from ever being able to approach God’s altar.
In the Old Testament God is communicating His transcendence.
God’s transcendence means that He is altogether above and outside of this world.  God is holy. That is the message of Leviticus. He is separate. He is far above. We would never understand the miraculous nature of God’s New Testament rescue mission unless we understand the immeasurable distance between God and man. We first had to understand how uncrossable was the chasm between us.  How ill-equipped we were to ever approach God’s throne. God is holy and perfect (Lev. 20:7) and that is the foundation of the gospel.
Therefore, this is what we must get: the book of Leviticus isn’t meant to be a little exclusive, it’s meant to be a LOT exclusive.  The message? God priests and his sacrifices must be perfect.  Chapter 22 verse21 says,
“And when anyone offers a sacrifice of peace offerings to the LORD to fulfill a vow or as a freewill offering from the herd or from the flock, to be accepted it must be perfect; there shall be no blemish in it.” (emphasis mine)
A sacrifice must be perfect. A peace offering must be perfect.  There must be no blemish in priest or blemish in sacrifice.
That is the message of Leviticus and that sets the stage for the greatest news the world has ever known.
Christ is our perfect sacrifice, our pure and spotless lamb. And, Christ is our high priest, perfect and blameless. Christ is the ONLY sacrifice that was absolutely perfect and thus able to once and for all make peace between God and. The perfect sin offering, the perfect peace offering.  And not only is He the perfect sacrifice, He is the perfect priest.  The book of Hebrews sums it up like this:
“And every priest stands daily at [God’s] service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when Christ offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God…For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified” (Hebrews 10:11-14).
Not only is He the Perfect Sacrifice, He is also the Perfect Priest, and (here’s the really good news!!) “He has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified” (v.14).
That’s YOU!  That’s ME!  By the perfect sacrifice by the perfect priest all those who put their faith in Him are being made perfect!  As we are sanctified here on this earth, Christ has alreadyperfected us for all time.
Even if one arm is longer than the other.
Even if we have a “defect”, even if we find ourselves on that list (I do!) full of blemishes and shortcomings and imperfections. Even if we know we would never have made it into the “in” crowd of the Old Testament. Even though our sin had separated us from God.
While still remaining a holy God, set apart, above, transcendent, the message of the New Testament is God’s immanence.
God came down. He came near. He is made His dwelling among us (John 1:14) and we have seen His glory, and “from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:16).
We have received grace upon grace.
See, friends–even Leviticus is part of the beautiful story of God.  He is perfect. Above. Holy.  We are hunchbacks–all of us!  But He is the perfect priest, the perfect sacrifice, and has perfected us all because everything He touches He makes beautiful.
That is grace upon grace. That is the gospel.
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{From the archives; I cannot revisit this glorious truth too many times. Â
Thank you for reading.}
When you're tempted to follow at a distance …
“And Peter had followed Him at a distance…”
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A few weeks ago our pastor shared about discipleship, that often we call ourselves “Christians” even though the much more common biblical term would be a Follower. Those who identify with Christ and have believed in Him are actually Christ-followers. He is who we follow. And Joel asked the question, “Can you really be a Christ-follower, a Christian, and not actually follow Christ?”
That very morning I’d read a story that put the question in an interesting light.
Peter, having followed Jesus for three years, is standing right beside Jesus when Judas betrays Jesus with a kiss. After cutting off Malchus’ ear, what does Peter do? (Mark 14:50)
He fled.
Well, not exactly.
He didn’t flee very far.Â
Verses 53-54 tells us that “as they led Jesus to the high priest” that “Peter had followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest. And he was sitting with the guards and warming himself at the fire.”
Peter did follow Jesus. He followed Him right smack dab into the courtyard of the high priest.
He couldn’t stand to let Jesus out of his sight, but he didn’t want his affiliation with Christ to cause him harm, so he stayed close enough to see Jesus but far enough away to be safe.
And warm his hands by the fire.
Can I humbly suggest that this is exactly the kind of following that characterizes the lives of many followers?
Followers who genuinely experienced new birth, and yet prefer to follow Christ to the outer courts, a place of comfort where they can still keep an eye on Jesus and yet still warm their hands by the fire. Still keep far enough away that an affiliation with Him will not cause them harm, discomfort, hardship.
Friends, we’re all tempted by the fire in the outer court.Â
We’re all tempted, who love and know and follow Christ, to drop back just a few steps so that the distance between Christ and us is enough to keep us from hardship. No way would we deny Him outright, but we’ll follow Him just as far as our comfort will allow.
No big deal, right? Wrong. Why is it a big deal?
Because of what Peter did next.
You all know the story: After hangin’ in the outer court, warming his hands, someone calls him out:
Hey, you’re one of those Jesus-guys!
Then the words slipped so easily from Peter’s mouth:
“I do not know this man of whom you speak.” (Mark  14:71)
Crushed. Crushed. Can you imagine the agony in Peter’s heart as he stared in horror at those words, spoken into existance and staring him in the face. How could he do it? He had denied his Lord!Â
I can only imagine his anguish: How on earth did I get to this place?
All it took was the warm fire in the outer court. Had he been there, right there, next to Jesus, there was no way on earth he could have denied him. Jesus’ face, His voice, His touch, His smell, His presence would have given Peter the courage to remain. But at a distance, by the fire, it was easy to do.
It was easy to deny his Lord.
Oh friends, I know people who are sitting by the fire.  I’ve cried out to God in prayer for friends I know who are sitting by the fire right now. The natural ending of that spot scares me to death. And I know that often I am tempted to hold back just a few steps and sit right down by that fire as well. Warm my hands a bit. We’re all tempted by the fire in the outer court.
We can’t go there. Must not go there. Must not let each other go there.
To follow Christ at a distance isn’t to follow Him at all. And I’m not judging distances, heaven forbid, I don’t know your distance and you don’t know mine, but I just know that we do well to stick right as tight as we possibly can, to ask Jesus to take our hand and keep us near. So that Jesus’ face, His voice, His touch, His smell, His presence, would give us the courage to stand fast right at His side.
*Just this morning, waiting for the elevator in our Maui hotel, I felt prompted to talk to a hotel worker about Jesus. What? How uncomfortable! How awkward. But as I walked away I had to wonder if every time we walk away from an opportunity we walk a little bit away from Jesus Himself. Â Considering this, taking this to heart, praying for another chance to see that person again.
{Oh for grace! We need it, amen? Thank you for following along this journey with me. Let’s pray for one another to stay close to Jesus. Thank you.}
Week's end with thanks
- Sun-kissed cheeks.
- Bare feet and sand between our toes.
- One whole glass wall that opens, accordion-style, onto the lanai. Just the sound of a waterfall and warm Hawaiian breeze through the palm trees.
- Wondering how amazing the Garden of Eden must have been.
- Thinking how God must have such blessing for us in eternity!
- Singing Phil Whickam’s “I see Your face in every sunrise, the colors of the morning are inside Your eyes…” while running along the Pacific watching sun rise over Maui mountains. You’re beautiful!
- Accompanied in my 4am wake-up time by little monkeys still adjusting to the time-change…
- Pineapple ’til my stomach ached.
- Eating our suitcase of food–beans, beans, and more beans.
- Mango salsa.
- Table strewn with Legos.
- Lazy afternoons with nothing to do.
- Crashing waves. Kids tossed, turned, a little scared then coming back for more.
- Aloha Mixed Plate.
- Aaron & Candi so generous. Starbucks for the road. Sandwiches, trail mix, kept us fueled for the journey.
- Kids so great on the plane!
- Early morning runs.
- Her little legs golden brown.
- Obeying.
- Last few days of Discerning the Voice of God, so grateful that even though the study’s over we still get to hear from Him!
- Receiving, learning, growing.
- Pulling a chair into the bathroom for early morning quiet time.
- Squinting at the pocket Bible, no matter how tiny His Words are still rich!
- Kids squealing in delight.
- Oatmeal each morning.
- Seeing beneath the surface.
- Snorkel gear.
- Your encouraging words.
- Getting to know a few of you more…
- Anticipating some fabulous guest posts!
- That you share your life with me…
- Heidi holding ten stickers, one on each finger, waving them in the air, grinning.
- Her little striped boy-short jammies: Sunshine girl.
- Asking God is perhaps He’d like us to plant a church here… (just kidding!)
- Birds chirping.
- Hundreds of tropical fish.
- Ocean cool and warm all at once.
- Thinking of how I love vacation but most of all I truly just love home.
- Two hungry children, right now, asking for snacks.
- Signing off now to unplug…
Thanks for reading, and for rejoicing with us in this sweet little getaway for our family. Bless your weekend! Â