Sacred Mundane: The Blog

Here it is, me being brave.  Some of you know that for about 8 years I’ve wanted to write a book entitled The Sacredness of the Mundane about glorifying God in all of life.  The problem with such an idea is that I’ve been thinking about it for eight years.  To be fair, part of the process is allowing God to write the book in me before I pour the book out of me, but I feel like lately I’ve just been putting it off because it’s far easier to just punch out blog posts and keep things failure-free. 

Last night I was digging around on my computer and I actually found the intro of the book, that I’d written down in San Jose.  I added a paragraph or two and I’m posting it here, not because I think it’s awesome or that it’s the finished product, but to give you an idea of where I’m headed, and get any feedback, ideas, etc.  I’m still a little unsure about exactly what direction I’m going with it, but it will probably be around 10 chapters, each devoted to a different mundane aspect of life (work, home, family, finances, body) and how we can consecrate every detail to God to live for His glory.  So anyway, here’s the intro I found:

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I picked the shirt up off the floor for the fourteenth time that day and hung it back on the rack.  I wanted to cry.  What am I doing?  Just weeks earlier my life was filled.  Filled with prayer meetings, ministering to college women, Bible studies, fellowship gatherings, times of worship, retreats, and teaching of God’s Word.  In the course of a month, my husband and I, destined for the ministry adventure of a lifetime in sunny California, found ourselves out of ministry, out of work, living in a windowless cave in a foreign state, and in the midst of very foreign circumstances. 

That shirt I was picking up again was most likely a bright pink Only Nine size 3X boat-neck shirt, the kind that slips off the hanger every two minutes at my new place of employment, Nordstrom Rack.  The jarring difference between life in full-time ministry and life in full-time Bay Area Retail was disconcerting, to say the least.  Now, instead of exhorting college women to store up treasures in heaven, I was half-heartedly advising middle-aged women on which shade of navy complimented their skin-tone.  There were days in which, after hours of picking up that same wide-necked and impossibly slippery shirt up off the floor for the fourteenth time, I thought, “I know that this is all going to burn someday, but I’d actually like to be the one to do it.”

My passion, during our years serving in full-time ministry, was to exhort women that there is sacredness in the mundane.  The Apostle Paul said that “whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God,”¹ and I was convinced that it doesn’t get much more basic and mundane than eating and drinking.  Therefore, it seems logical to deduce that if Paul told us to eat and drink for the glory of God, then it must be possible for us to do all things to the glory of God.  If anything matters, everything matters.  This is the sacrament of life.  I was passionate about instilling into college women that all of life is sacred and meant to be lived out to the fullest for the glory of God.  I talked about this, taught about this, and prayed about this-and knew that God intended me to eventually write to you about this. 

When our life turned upside down in California, it seemed that my husband and I had been “shelved.”  My biggest fear, always, had been that somehow I would mess things up or miss God’s will or get in the way, and be therefore deemed unworthy of God’s use, set upon the shelf of has-been ministers, whose pride or ignorance kept them from being useful to God.  We had followed God to California out of obedience.  I knew that.  We didn’t want to move there in the first place, but sensed through months of prayer and fasting, that we were to leave our house, parents, family, friends, and successful ministry, and start from scratch in a spiritually cold and desolate city in the heart of Silicon Valley.  This made the catapult out of ministry and into the “real world” that much harder, because I somehow feared that I had “messed up” in some way, or become too puffed up with pride, or too hindering to God’s work, and He had therefore sentenced me to a lifetime of plus-sized fashions at Nordstrom Rack. 

However, God in His graciousness cleared my clouded vision, and reminded me of His love.  This passion He had instilled in me for his glory, for the sacredness of the mundane, needed to be tested, tried, and proved through the reality of life, the rains of adversity, and the worldly pressures of Silicon Valley.  What better way to ignite my heart for his glory than to send it through the very valley of the mundane, and to demonstrate, and share with you, like the cheering witnesses of Hebrews 11 that “It can be done, it can be done, this life of faith and godliness can be run.” 

Four years later, I found myself in another set of mundane circumstances that challenged my perspective even more.  Now, instead of working full-time, Jeff and I were living with my parents in order for Jeff to finish seminary, and I was home full-time chasing an 18-month old with another on the way.  I no longer even had the joy of keeping my own home, of expressing myself through the creative outlet of my house-even if all that meant was cleaning and cooking.  My identity was once more stripped away.  Now I was in someone else’s home, changing endless poopy diapers, managing morning sickness and migraines, and wondering how on earth this was for the glory of God.  At least in the work environment I was interacting with people.  Now I was just saying “no-no” for the five-hundredth time and cleaning my parents’ kitchen. 

This one had my stymied. How? How can this be fulfilling, exhilarating work for the Kingdom of God?  My ministry, my home, my friends, my transportation (we only had one car), my freedom, my identity was gone, or so it felt.  How can this painfully mundane life be filled with sacred meaning?  And once again, God began to meet me.  The road was rough, and at times very dark, but He birthed life through a thousand little deaths. 

So now, I challenge you.  If God’s Word commands it, God’s Spirit enables it.  Do you long for the adventure of living a life consumed with passion for the glory of God?  Do you desire divine encounters at the grocery store or in your classes? Do you yearn for something more invigorating than another poopy diaper?  Dare to live every moment for God’s glory and see Him in all that you do.  You will never be the same, and the incorruptible beauty that will radiate forth from your life will reflect His beauty and attract people to the True and Living God who alone can save their souls.  This is the secret that will turn your life from a dreary and habitually discouraging cycle of tediousness, to a joyful and exhilarating pursuit of the glory of God.  This is the sacredness of the mundane.

A note of caution:  Stepping up to the challenge of living every moment for the glory of God causes a shift in the heavenly places and Satan to stand up and take notice.  Our adversary will not kick a dead horse nor afflict those who sit on the sidelines.  Consider Job.  Count the Cost².  If you are willing, step forward and be counted.  The glorious reward is worth any hardship, and our glorious LORD is worthy of our life.  Therefore, “be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.  Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brother hood in the world.  But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you.  To Him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.”³ 

Today is a Slump Day.  I woke up way late, frantically manuevered getting myself and Dutch ready (Jeff leaves at 6:45am to get stuff ready at church), hurrying him along nursing, and finally making to church, pulling him out of the car to discover he was loaded with a poopy diaper.  Church annoyed me.  I know that’s really bad to say, but there are times when overly happy-happy-joy-joy people can just bug the heck out of you when you’re down in the dumps, especially when you’re really trying to seek God and be obedient and the nice neat “obey=happy” equation doesn’t seem to be panning out so well.  At any rate, we survived, and I arrive back at home, had my first cheesy bean burrito of the day, and tried half-heartedly to clean the kitchen while Dutch played with cars.

By the time Jeff got home around 1:15 I’d stuffed depressing thoughts and feelings–about how something in our life has got to change or I am going to collapse–all morning and thought I was fine then to my horror as we sat down to talk about our mornings, I burst into uncontrollable tears. What a wreck.  He did all the right things–held me, assured me my feelings were legitimate, then left me to my pounding headache and tired eyes, resting on the couch.  At 2:30 I decided something must change when my mom, Mrs. Compassion and Tender Mercy herself, said, “So why are you in a bad mood?”  I am proud to say I didn’t fall on the floor and start crying, but I realized that perhaps my down-sad-depressed-sourness is more frequent then I care to admit.

So, when I get to this point, I usually start racking my brain for a way to pull out of it. Obviously I pray, and I read through Philippians, but for me I need something concrete to get myself back on track.  Usually I turn to a book.  I sat on the couch upstairs and stared at the bookshelf, waiting for some magic title to light up that read, “How to be happy” or something like that.  What I did notice was a book that I’ve always meant to read but never happened to pull it off the shelf.  A simple book called “Teaching to Change Lives” by Howard Hendricks.  I wasn’t much in the mood to think about teaching, I just wanted to not feel so sad, but I’d just finished the last of the 10 novels I recently borrowed from the library (morning sickness gives me an excuse to read fiction), and so hey, what the heck. I opened it up.

Now obviously, it is no secret, my goal is to change lives. If you haven’t figured it out yet, that is why this blog is here.  I don’t just love to see my name on the computer screen, and though it’s therapeutic for me to write, the bigger picture is that my lifelong goal is to use writing to change lives.  That’s why I write. So, ok I thought, this might be good.

Chapter 1:  “The effective teacher always teaches from the overflow of a full life. The Law of the Teacher, simply stated, is this: If you stop growing today, you stop teaching tomorrow.  Neither personality nor methodology can subsitute for this principle. You cannot communicate out of a vacuum. You cannot impart what you do not possess. If you don’t know it–truly know it–you can’t give it.  This law embraces the philosophy that I, as a teacher, am primarily a learner; a student among students…I must keep growing and changing.”

I think I kind of subconsciously knew this, but to hear it articulated so clearly made everything come into focus.  This process I am in, the painful growing process, is necessary if I want to truly communicate any truth about life and faith and growth and pain.  The reason I love love love seminary so much is that I grow!  I change and stretch and hurt and it forces me to learn which enables me to share and teach and impart.  But it goes far beyond seminary, because some of the greatest lessons are those I learn in the times like this morning, when I crumble into Jeff’s arms because I want to move out so bad it twists my guts all in knots.

So I will continue to grow.  I will grow because I want to teach.  I will grow and learn and be a student of life because I pray that somehow by the grace of God He will let me use whatever communication means possible to teach and change lives, in whatever sphere I am, whether private or public.  Oh that we will continue to learn and grow! God please help me to continue to stretch, even when it feels like I will snap in half it hurts so bad.  My bones ache with the growing pangs…but there is life happening, I can feel it.

Favorite Scene of the Day:  Dutch, sitting all by himself, totally oblivious to the fact that I was watching him.  Sitting in the shade with his pudgy little legs wrapped around a colander filled with fresh blueberries, popping them one by one happily in his mouth and smacking his lips as he savors the summer sweetness.  Bliss.

Silver Linings:  After a cloudless day, Jeff and I were lying on a beach towel on the grass while Dutch played next to us in his sand box.  A thick, puffy white cloud came rolling in, covering the sun, but the silver lining was shockingly bright.  The cloud was thick enough to totally eclipse the brightness of the sun, except for that brilliant lining, all the way around the thick cloud, almost blindingly bright.  I’m praying for silver linings this week, whatever it brings.

PS One FULL week, seven days, without throwing up and without a single migraine.  Still plenty nauseated, but no puke and no migraines makes a HUGE difference!  Thank You, God!

I am so blessed by my husband.  I don’t applaud him enough on here; and I realize how much I take for granted all that he does.  He is probably the most serving person I have met.  He is always looking for ways to make others feel comfortable, to help them with a problem, to seek out the person in the corner and talk to them.  He cares nothing for his own status, appearance, ego.  He lives what he preaches–he genuinely loves to serve, love, learn about, and live for God more than anything else in the world.  He expects so little–whether it’s dinner or a clean house; he’s content with “scraps” as he calls it (just throw some scraps in a bag for my lunch, he says). He’s just content.  And he’s painstakingly devoted to recycling–what a cool guy!  So for him I am thankful.

The latest cool thing that my husband does is that he now rides his bike to work.  He has a 1/2 time job working at our church (hence the prayers for a full-time job), so he goes in 4 days a week (that adds up to more than 1/2 time in my calculations, but that’s another story).  Our second car went kaput in December, so for 6 months we maneuvered jobs and school and life with one car, which was an adventure, but it worked.  But for his 30th birthday, generous friends and parents partnered with me to get Jeff his dream–a Marin commuter bike (which was $100 cheaper in June!).  Spendy, but not compared to a car! Then, my husband who loves to take trash and turn it into treasure, took a sturdy plastic milk crate, spray painted it matte black to match his bike, then bolted it onto the back of the bike, creating a carrier for his laptop bag and books, extra clothes, and bag lunch. Thus loaded, he pedals the eight miles to work, over the river, up the grueling Coleman hill, and into town.  He can do it in about 29 minutes each way. He makes this trip four times a week, which means that he’s riding an average of 64 miles/week!  Way to go, Jeff!  This also means that we save almost $50 a month on gas.  It might not seem like much, but it provides Jeff with awesome exercise, gives me the luxury of having a car to use if I need, and saves a little money at the same time.  It’s better for the environment as well, but Jeff’s favorite reason is that it just energizes his day.  The 1/2 hour into town gives him a chance to pray, reflect, think, rejoice.  Sometimes he listens to sermons on his ipod (with only one earplug in!), sometimes he just thinks and prays.  He says that by the time he gets to the office he’s so refreshed and energized, he’s ready for the day.  A quick change of clothes, splash of water under the armpits (at least I hope he does that, perhaps I should mention this to him), and an extra layer of deodorant, and he’s good to go!

Jeff laughed when I told him this was our LiveDifferent Challenge because he said it’d be pretty tough for an electrician to practice this, or a mom with kids, or a meter-reader :-)…or a lot of people. I know this isn’t possible for everyone, but my husband’s devotion to ride instead of drive has definitely inspired me and I know perhaps there are creative ways we can cut down on driving and get more exercise instead.  Such as:

1. Plan all your errands so you only use your car once a week for running around.

2. Carpool.

3. If you can, ride your bike to work or take the bus. Walk to the grocery store or to the post office.

4. Trade in your gas guzzler for a fuel efficient car.

5. Instead of driving to the gym every day, go running outside or do a workout video or make up a circuit training routine with stairs, jumprope, pushups, crunches, etc.  Studies show that those who workout at home are actually far more likely to stick with a fitness routine.

These are just ideas. I know these aren’t possible for everyone, but perhaps you could sit down and evaluate your own circumstances and try to think of 2-3 simple ways that you can drive less and perhaps ride or walk more.  For us, necessity is the mother of invention.  But no matter what your situation and even if money is no object, it’s always fun to think of creative ways to LiveDifferent, even if they seem so small.  So put away those car keys, and let’s ride!