Redeeming the Mundane

Just the other day, my husband FaceTimed me from Home Depot to discuss bathroom faucet selections. The reason I was home instead of with him on this thrilling adventure to the hardware store is that our youngest daughter was taking her afternoon nap. As I chatted with my husband, measuring our current bathroom faucet and discussing this handle versus that handle, I found myself amused by how incredibly mundane and grown-up the moment was. And then the thought struck me: My 20-year-old self would be horrified.

My 20-year-old self dreamed of being a missionary, bringing the hope of Jesus to a distant land, casting off material possessions. My heart longed for adventure, and in some ways I think I wanted to somehow prove my love for the Lord by making the biggest sacrifice possible. My 20-year-old self detested the thought of living in the suburbs, living an ordinary life.

My current 31-year-old self has a husband, two kids, a dog, a mortgage, a mini-van, and animated discussions about bathroom sink faucets on Sunday afternoons. I live in the suburbs about an hour from where I grew up. My life is nowhere near the exciting adventure I envisioned a decade ago. My days are filled with ordinary tasks: cooking meals, trying to get my girls to sit still and eat those meals, cleaning up messes, playing pretend, changing diapers, pushing swings, emptying and refilling the dishwasher, reading children's book after children's book, grocery shopping, blowing bubbles, answering a million questions, searching for lost babydoll shoes, doing laundry, filling up sippy cups, tying shoes and fastening buttons, refereeing sibling disputes, and cleaning up more messes, and doing more laundry. How can I "go and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19)? Some days I don't even leave my house.

I love what Oswald Chambers has to say about drudgery:

"We are not meant to be illuminated versions, but the common stuff of ordinary life exhibiting the marvel of the grace of God. Drudgery is the touchstone of character. The great hindrance in spiritual life is that we will look for big things to do. 'Jesus took a towel... and began to wash the disciples' feet.' 

There are times when there is no illumination and no thrill, but just the daily round, the common task. Routine is God's way of saving us between our times of inspiration. Do not expect God always to give you His thrilling minutes, but learn to live in the domain of drudgery by the power of God... The tiniest detail in which I obey has all the omnipotent power of the grace of God behind it. If I do my duty, not for duty's sake, but because I believe God is engineering my circumstances, then at the very point of my obedience the whole superb grace of God is mine through the Atonement."

Throughout the gospels, we read example upon example of the miraculous deeds of Jesus. He heals the blind, the lepers. He feeds the multitude. He walks on water. He raises Lazarus from the dead. And yet, in John 13, Jesus washes the feet of his disciples - the absolute picture of humility, servitude, drudgery. And he asks us to do the same. "If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet" (John 13:14).

That mound of dishes you have to wash, the piles of laundry you have to fold?

Those are blessings.

That house in the suburbs you wake up in every day?

That is your mission field.

Those children you feed, bathe, clothe, discipline day in and day out?

Those are your disciples.

Those ordinary times spent at the park, the grocery store, your children's school?

Those are your mission field, too.

Woven into the tapestry of your most mundane days are a million little divine moments. When you choose patience and gentle speech for the umpteenth time, instead of snapping at your children. When you humbly ask your children for forgiveness (and demonstrate that everyone needs grace) after you inevitably do lose your temper. When you have the self-control to ignore your phone and focus on the people around you. When you share your real, messy struggles with your friends, and they respond with truth and love. When you befriend a fellow momma at the park who looks overwhelmed, and bring her into your tribe.

Perhaps, like me, this isn't the mission field you envisioned for yourself when you were in your twenties. But God has you and me in this season of drudgery - and joy! - for a reason, Momma. And there is so much beauty here. Those little feet you wash (and those little bottoms you wipe) are not daily tasks done in vain. God is doing a good work in you and through you. He can redeem even the most menial of moments. Go, and love. Go, and make disciples. And yes, go and make dinner, too.

On the other hand, perhaps you're reading this and you've never envisioned yourself in a mission field at all. Perhaps you are the overwhelmed momma at the park, desperate for a place to belong, searching for the meaning in the drudgery that only Jesus can provide. To you, I say: Come. Come as you are. Bring your mess. Your tribe is waiting with open arms.

Tyler Carris

Stay-at-home mom to two sweet girls and wife of Nick. Tyler is part of the original Agape Moms, based in Lithia, FL. You can relate with the ramblings of her often sleep deprived mind by visiting her blog, https://www.thecarriswheel.com/