How to let His hands be our hands and how to step into His shoes and walk every mile with His feet.
How to listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and how to walk into the deeper waters to experience His love and further His kingdom.
How to be Jesus.
It's even in the little ways, and this is what God is teaching me-what He's been teaching me-over the past three months and in my present season.
Tonight my fingers ache.
Some days at work I get to pursue the fun tasks: setting up decorative displays, organizing items, or interacting with customers. Other days, I am assigned more tedious jobs.
Tonight was such a night.
I spent three hours-literally three hours-removing barcode stickers from the back of books.
Was it a difficult feat? Not at all. Was it laborious? Hardly.
My fingers cramped like crazy, but really it could've been worse. You know how it goes though, because we've all been there. We've all had tedious tasks to accomplish, and we've all built them up in our heads to be the worst experiences known to mankind.
Even though there are a multitude of significantly more challenging tasks we could be doing, we still complain. We grumble, we moan, we grit our teeth and simply bear the duration of however long it takes for us to complete the tedious job.
Sometimes the easiest to accomplish tasks are the most difficult to endure, and this can be for a multitude of reasons.
Tedious tasks require patience. They often require sitting still. Sometimes they are repetitive. They can seem boring or grueling or pointless.
All of the little less-than-exciting characteristics of such jobs add up until every aspect of them begins to crawl under our skin and into our hearts until our very souls are made up of hardness and pessimistic attitudes so that our cups overflow with irritation and short remarks.
Somehow we justify grumbling about tedious tasks.
I am guilty of this often.
I allow myself to complain out of the irritation of my heart that is being asked to be still for-Heaven forbid-a mere three hours.
And then the Spirit reminds me that people all over the world cry out of the pains of their hungering bodies and their yearning souls.
People all over the world would switch me positions in a second. They'd love a job. An income of some sort at age 20.
So there is the first truth: if you're blessed enough to have fingers that cramp from performing a tedious job, then praise God for such an opportunity-that you have a job at all.
Even tedious tasks are blessings in disguise.
Nothing is wasted on God.
Here's another truth: every part of this life contains potential to teach us something.
Wisdom can be gained from any experience, I truly believe.
The times that force you to sit still? They are teaching you patience.
The jobs that require you to be mentally alert? They are teaching you self-control.
The tasks that irritate you for lack of excitement? They are teaching you to choose joy.
The tasks that bore you? They are teaching you to find beauty among simplicity.
The little jobs that are seemingly unimportant teach you that they indeed do matter, because without them there would be no 'big picture'.
Tedious tasks are sometimes the best way to grow in our knowledge of spiritual self-disciplines. They grow us, and for that we should rejoice. If tedious jobs grow us in the areas of spiritual disciplines, then they are indeed growing us too in the areas of life!
Tonight I examined my nails after three hours of de-stickering books; one was chipped, one was a purplish color (don't ask me why), and all of them had sticky residue underneath them.
The task had literally gotten under my skin.
I was far from lovely in that moment-on the outside. Thank goodness Christianity is and has always been about what's on the inside-it's where our hearts are at that truly matters.
It would be the easiest way to travel, Ungrateful Road. I could all too easily decide to aimlessly meander down it and let the word-vomit come spilling out, spreading like gangrene to everyone around me.
Because that's how words are-they have potential to kill. To set a forest on fire with the hell that is the tongue.
Or, I could choose life. I could walk down Love Lane, using the most affective muscle in my body to speak life and choose intention right here and now.
Because that's the call of the Christian. That's where the heart of Jesus is found, and this simple truth should motivate us to pursue holiness.
To do everything to God's glory, because He has chosen us to be set apart for His purposes. He has ordained us to love, to rejoice, to delight in truth.
Not to complain. To grumble. To growl or bicker or moan.
I could thank God for the blessing of a job-any job-because too many people in this world are unemployed. I could praise the Lord for allowing me to partake in tasks that can teach me so much. I could choose to encourage those around me who also have tedious tasks, because even though we are all completing one small piece, together we all are creating the puzzle.
So I chose love. I chose joy. I chose thankfulness.
I yielded to my Father and allowed Him to align my head and my heart, and as He filled my soul with grace and love and hope and joy, my cup could only overflow.
I realized that once I died to myself in that moment, I was able to look past myself and see other people. Maybe God could even teach me how to use the skills I'm learning now to help other people find jobs one day.
Because oh yeah, He's God, and (I guess) He's big enough to do such a thing. Why do the hearts of men falter and doubt God's power so often? I suppose it's what proves that we need God at all. I just wish we'd trust Him more. I wish I'd trust Him more-to use me, to teach me, and to work in my life to reach other people.
Picking the residue out from my underneath my nails, I walked up to the register to assist an older gentlemen who was ready to check out his purchase. His Bud Light cap was slightly tilted and his genuine smile displayed various dark windows. He asked me how I was doing, and I believe he honestly wanted to know. He called me 'hun', and I believe he spoke from a tender heart. He bought a small silver knick knack-sort of a small pendant-that read, 'My Guardian Angel', and as he paid for it he held it up and said, 'Hun, you know, we are each others' angels. You're mine, and I am yours. Everybody is supposed to be an angel to everyone they meet.'.
What do you even say to that except 'amen?'
'We just gotta keep on loving each other in the name of Jesus'.
The tediousness of the night had long ago melted away.
After he walked out the doors, I realized that this is what it's about, anyway: loving people in the name of Jesus. Being each others' guardian angels. Shining light. Preserving souls.
Maybe instead of grumbling about what I wish I weren't doing, I should be asking the question of how what I am doing can be a service to other people. What can I be doing-in the name of love?
Additionally, all of the little jobs and tasks that we so often complain about are simply stepping stones to teach us how to climb the mountain of life.
Life is so incredibly like climbing a mountain. We must train before we begin the climb, and this is oftentimes tedious. We must persevere once we begin the climb, but it is the tedious exercises that have prepared us to push through and climb the mountain.
Once we begin the climb, we realize that it is indeed the actual experience of hiking that matters, and at that point the preparation and exercises of the past become simple tools used to bring us to the journey-small steps to prepare us for what truly matters.
Sometimes the tasks we find to be seemingly meaningless are truly preparing us for greater experiences. We can either complain through the exercises, eyes downcast and hearts downtrodden, or we can rejoice as we accomplish them, eyes lifted and gaze focused on the heart of the One whom is calling us upward.
We forget that there is no mountain He has not climbed. That He works all things for the good of those who love Him. That He has created us for good works.
To love and be loved.
