Selective Service

“And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought.” 

1 Chronicles 28:9 NIV

My kids have amazing servants’ hearts (for the most part).  They each love serving in different areas at church.  A couple of my kids offer to help clear other people’s plates at the dinner table without ever being asked.  All of the kids go with me each week during the summer to my dad’s place to help with the yard work.  My girls are even already talking about finding some way that they can volunteer at the local humane society next summer. 

Sometimes, though, my kids are not so much about helping from a servant’s standpoint, but out of a selfish desire to do what they want to do because they want to do it. 

Confused?

Follow along with this random conversation that usually takes place with one of my girls, oh, maybe a few times a month (and usually stems from my beginning a task involving a spray bottle or cleaner of sorts with a desire to actually clean something):

(Mom on stepstool cleaning inside window)

DAUGHTER:  Mom, can I help you?

MOM: I love that you want to help me.  I am almost done here, but you can ________________ (fill the in the blank with any age appropriate chore that needs desperately to be done such as emptying the dishwasher, vacuuming a room or switching laundry).

DAUGHTER: Nah, that’s okay.

(Exit daughter.)

REALLY?  

Did you not just offer to help me? 

Did I not tell you what was going to help me at that moment?

Now, I know I have some control issues.  Some of you Supermoms are probably shaking your heads right now, convinced that I should have given my daughter her own towel and let her “clean” my windows.  In theory, I completely agree.  In reality, I wanted to be able to see out my windows when I was done and didn’t know when I was going to get around to doing them again.

But, I digress.

When the child that seemed so willing to help walks away, I experience a twinge of sadness.  She did not wholeheartedly want to help.  She was not willing to serve, but rather she wanted to serve her own desire.

My sadness then overwhelms me.  Not because my daughter was not willing, but because I realize I treat God in much the same way.  My daily servitude looks something like this…

God I am wholeheartedly wanting and willing to serve you, except for…

… forgiveness when it comes to someone who has hurt me

…or the patience part when one of my kids messes up

…oh yeah, that good steward stuff seems hard

…and don’t get me started on the whole “die to self” thing

Lord, I want to serve you when it is convenient for me.  I want to serve you, not for Your glory, but for my convenience.  And BTW, please bless me and answer my prayers.  Amen.

Sound silly?  

Maybe.  But it is true, on a daily basis, that I selectively choose how I want to serve God instead of asking Him how He wants me to serve His kingdom.  When He calls me to something too scary, too risky do I push my fingers into my ears and chant “la-la-la-la-la-la-la” over and over again until I don’t hear Him anymore?

How must He feel when I walk away from what He asks me to do?

This has got to change.  

My prayer…my heartfelt, head-to-toe prayer must be one of surrender not selective service.  One of submission rather than omission.  One that tells God I am willing to do anything, not just something.  My mind and heart must be willing to say “yes” rather than “yes, but…” with wholehearted devotion.

The truth is, I must be perfectly content to vacuum when what I really want to do is to clean the window.

My Morning Idle

The mornings are getting cooler. 

Not quite cold, but definitely much cooler.

So, in preparation to take my oldest, a senior this year,  to high school early to catch the bus for his off-campus classes, I decided to start the car a few minutes early.  Our seven year old minivan is a workhorse, but she seems to run more smoothly with a gentle easing into our crazy days.

Five minutes before we were scheduled to leave, I turned the car on and went back inside to finish up some things and hustle him out the door while the other children proceeded to get ready for their regularly scheduled day.

I walked in to a last minute change of plans.  

His girlfriend was going to pick him up along with his brother, the freshman, as well.

I was off the hook.

They left.

And I proceeded to help get the girls ready.  Oatmeal and tea consumed.  Email read.  Hair braided or straightened.  A cup of coffee for me, please, with the Today Show on in the background. Backpacks and lunches double checked.  Pinterest scanned.  Shoes on.  Grab my key….my key….where is my….oh no I didn’t…

You know where it is, don’t you? 

Wait for it….

Wait for it…

My key was STILL in the van and the van was STILL running!

Yup, mother of five kids, 42 years of age and I failed to remember that I started the car and left it running in the middle of our driveway for over an hour.

After a huge moment of relief to see the car actually still in the driveway, the rest of the kids were loaded for my next scheduled drop-off.  As I pulled out of the driveway, the low fuel light came on (uh, yeah, it was only running for the last hour) and I began to process my swirling emotions.  Grateful that I still had the car and that it had not run out of gas in the midst of my brain fart.  Guilty that I needlessly spewed fumes into the atmosphere for over an hour.  Embarrassed that my life is so chaotic that I failed to remember that I turned my car on in the first place.

Upon returning  home, I decided to take a few minutes to regroup thoughts with an online devotional which of course led to a link…..where I clicked on another link…and eventually ended up reading a preview chapter of Steven Furtick’s book Greater.    

The morning’s mishap still had its grasp wrapped tightly around my heart as I read this line:

“The thing is, most believers aren’t in imminent danger of ruining their lives.  They’re facing a danger that is far greater: wasting them.”

YIKES!

You see…I turned the proverbial key to start this blog well over a year ago.  I planned the route, declared it God’s calling for me, gunned the engine a few times and then left it idling in my proverbial blog driveway.      

And then my hugely overwhelming, sit down now and write this out, light bulb moment struck: You can let the car idle all by its lonesome or even sit in it with the pedal to the metal, but if it isn’t in the RIGHT GEAR,  you aren’t going anywhere.

Mine is not the idleness of not doing, it is the idleness of not being.  

Not being obedient.

Not being willing.

Not being discontent with mindless mediocrity.

It is not the idleness of sitting on my couch eating bon-bons (although that happens sometimes too), but rather the idleness of being very busy in the house with trivial pursuits while the car, the vehicle poised and ready to take me great places, sits running in the driveway.

Most people think of “idle” as being synonymous with lazy or inactive.  The primary definition in the Merriam-Webster online dictionary is “lacking worth or basis”.  How much of my time is spent idling…pursuing, obsessing over, accumulating, micromanaging, buying things without worth or basis in the eternal scheme of things while ignoring the godly?

This is not a reminder to do more in my life, but a rally cry to make more of my life.   

This is me…changing gears again. 

Want a ride?