I spend my life picking up socks.
That’s not strictly true, of course. There’s dirty silverware and cups, desiccated vegetables and hardened play dough. There’s Duplo blocks and train sets and dinosaurs and dolls. There’s throw blankets and throw pillows (which get…don’t you know…thrown.) Did I mention socks?
It’s pretty mundane, this life of ours. Swim lessons, play dates, and laundry. Grocery shopping and the play ground and library, and lots of books and puzzles and singing things on television. And if you know me at all, you might know that I’m kind of a move-on-to-the-next-thing kind of a gal.
I want to know the point of it all, because honestly? It all starts to feel a bit pointless after a while.
The mess, the toys, the socks just keep coming. Do you know what I mean? My people need food, and the dishes need washing, and the toilet needs scrubbing again…and again…and again.
It’s an endless cycle of doing what’s needed, but it’s not exactly earth shaking. I find my confidence shaken, my certainty that I’m really contributing anything of value in this life…well, shaken. There are nuclear physicists and trauma surgeons and even my own Superman climbs mountains and carries people off of them. I can find their place in the strata of usefulness, but when it comes to quantifying the usefulness of a sock-picker-upper?
I’m not so impressed.
It’s only when I look in the Gospels and see Jesus affirming the ordinary that my pulse begins to settle. He meets people in the sweat and grime of their hustling lives, pinpoints their exact area of need, and then? Then, when they repent and want to go change the world, He sends them home. Live the difference. Tell your people what God did for you.
Yes, occasionally, God takes someone from the dust and orbits them into national ministry. But for every one of those glittering stars that the whole world knows, there are tens of thousands of faithful, ordinary, sock-picker-uppers. Simple people who just tell it to their kids, live it out in the PTA meetings, in the break room, in the grocery store checkout line. (Seriously, is that NOT a test of your Christian character?)
If you and I are loving our people the best that we can, even if it’s by picking up socks, that’s sanctified work. Really.
Maybe we don’t need more epic and best-ever.
Maybe the truly rare stuff in life is just mundane, everyday faithfulness, made starkly beautiful with great love.
And when you really want to change the world, God is faithful to open up opportunities right in the middle of your ordinary.
I have a friend who’s homeschooling her 3 girls, runs the local 4-H program, mentors single moms, just completed her foster parent certification…and is gathering supplies for relief efforts of refugees in Syria.
Another friend read a good book on parenting and asked some moms at church if they wanted to read it through and send a quick note of encouragement to another mom each week for 4 weeks. Sounds simple, right? Friends, by the time she was done, she had 40 people signed up.
Even simpler, one of the most life-changing people I’ve ever known is my BFF’s mom. She had plenty on her plate, but she always made the effort to encourage her daughter’s and my friendship. I loved going over to their house. She always had a smile, a hug, and time to let 2 girls take over her kitchen to make a tea party. She let us stay up as late as we wanted, sleep in till noon, and let the chores slide so that we’d have more time together. It doesn’t really get any simpler than that, does it? Her example shines bright in my life decades later. I want that kind of a home.
I want to share that kind of lifegiving love with as many people as I can. That, to me, is Jesus.
You don’t have to go brave the jungles of South America to shine the light of the Gospel (unless that’s where God calls you!) Shine bright right here at home.
Love the ones you’re given – your own family, your coworkers, your neighbors, your church, your kid’s friend. It’s love that makes all the difference, isn’t it, friends?
You really can’t minimize the impact of a faithful woman who loves Jesus and people with all of her heart.
Even if all she ever does is pick up socks.