Note to my readers: For the past few months, I have been trying, and failing, to write in my blog. Somehow I have gotten the misguided belief that each and every blog entry must be long and full of thought and intention and the result has been blog silence. Because I am apparently not capable of thought and intention these days. What I have been doing instead is writing long Facebook posts that could very well be blog posts. So I am trying to write the tiny bits of whatever is in my mind, and posting them as blog posts. Because, I've got to get this ship moving again. And this seems like a good way to start. I am so grateful for your patience, and faithfulness. It means everything to me!

And here we go....


I'm listening to worship music while making supper, and as always, I am amazed at how holy and lovely it is to serve God by caring for my family. I've written before about the glorious mundane, the gift of doing routine, common, humble duties with reverence and love, because God is in those we serve, and He is worthy. And we love our people so much, it is joy to meet their needs. And yes, I am in love with my people!

I remember, in another age, being in a group of men who were discussing how monks had missed God's calling by cloistering themselves in monasteries, studying the Word of God, praying and serving the communities around them. Apparently, by limiting themselves to service, they were missing the CALLING. THE BIG THING.

So, they worked in their gardens, fed wandering travelers, prayed for hours daily, ministered to the small communities around them. Just imagine what they could have been doing! What glories! What important, noteworthy work they missed out on!

At the time, I disagreed, even though I knew little about the work and life of the monastery. It just felt wrong, arrogant, to judge a community without understanding them, their motives, their calling.

I understand now that there is glory in service, in small things, in serving those who cannot repay us. The glory is not in the rewards, even though they are promised. To be honest, I don't have the discipline to work for rewards that linger somewhere in the future. The reward is in seeing those that we love experiencing our love, in tangible, close ways. The reward is love.

So I sing worship songs to God while I make food that will nourish my family, I dance in my kitchen while my little dog hovers about, hoping for dropped bits, I bring each one of my children before God as I brush chicken breasts with butter, I speak with God about my husband as I saute spinach with butter and garlic and I pray for my dad, my step mom, my mother in law as I rinse out dishes.

And in it all, I dare to consider that what is a BIG THING to God, may not be the BIG THING to the world.

And I'm okay with that.

Now, please excuse me. The chicken needs more butter.