"Oh sure! That would be nice!" I said, smiling. I nodded my head with exuberance and smiled a huge, cheesey smile. This sweet woman had just invited me to her house to sit and chat while the kids played. I grinned so bright and agreed what a great idea it was, all the while thinking to myself, "That will never happen." Why? Because I didn't like her? No. I liked her a lot. She's sweet and kind and I've been dying to make friends. The reaosn is because my home is my bubble, my safe place. I do what I want. I wear my jammies all day. I can shower, or not. I don't feel pressure or obligated to exert myself in any way outside of what makes me comfortable. And it's in that word--comfortable--that we get the crux of why I knew I'd never happen over to her house to visit. I like being comfortable. And who doesn't, really? Most people don't go out of their way to be uncomfortable. In fact, we take a lifetime usually, to build walls, and draw boundaries that keep us safe and secure. I think I've likened "comfort" with safe. I assume that if it "hurts" it's not good. I used to lament while watching my babies cry, "why did God make teething so painful? What purpose does that pain possibly serve?" But as I sit here thinking about all of this, I wonder if it's just one way He shows us that pain and discomfort doesn't always equal "bad" and is, in fact, necessary to grow and mature. Who knows if the time spent in the cocoon is terribly painful for the butterfly? It may seem to the onlooker to be effortless, but maybe it's not. {If you know scientific data to answer this question, let's forego that for the sake of my point, m'kay?} Maybe it's excruciating, but OH! what a beautiful breakthrough happens when it emerges, fully changed and gorgeous! I've been convicted so much lately about my life and the level of comfort I shamelessly work to maintain. I go just as far as necesary, but never past where it stings. That woman who needs a friend? I'll text her. That woman who is hurting? I'll give her a hug. That woman who no one else wants anyting to do with? Well, I'll pray for her and point her out to others so they can build community with her. I'm nice like that. What I won't do? Oh that list is much longer. Pretty much anything that requires I extend myself beyond what I feel like in the moment is where I stop. Sure, I write. I blog. I lead Bible studies. I even speak on occasion in front of large crowds. But I'm realizing that even if I write or speak about Jesus to an audience of millions, if I never truly extend myself to those in my sphere, one-on-one, to build real community, to show them what Jesus looks like...I'm not really serving. If I only do what feels good or "not that bad," what sacrifice is it to the Father? Thankfully, Jesus went far above and beyond what merely didn't feel "that bad" for us. Not only in the pivotal and immeasurable action of dying on the cross and raising again, but in His everyday life during His ministry, He gave it all. His entire life was dedicated to serving others. He stole away on occasion to refill and spend time with the Father, but the majority of time in scripture, we see Him ministering; to the disciples, to the hurting and broken, preaching, and teaching. His life was an example of how we should love: sacrificial. 100% in, not merely toeing the water, wading ankle deep. Sure, He preached on hillsides and performed miracles, but He also spent much of His time in people's homes, eating with them, getting to know them, sharing in their personal space. He wandered from place to place, never putting down roots for very long, all in an effort to reach and get to know as many as possible. And all to be an example to us of sacrificial service. When others extended invitations to Him to come to their homes, He went. Often He went into the homes of those who others who were "religious" or "holy" would never consider. Jesus went. He reclined at their tables and ate with them. He had conversation. He saw below the surface of what everyone else saw. Why am I not doing that more? Because it's uncomfortable. I've felt God put a messgae on my heart for some time now. I didn't really get it at first, but it's starting to become clearer: "You're going to do this differently. You're not going to look like everyone else. Your ministry will be your life." I believe He's starting to reveal to me what that entails. It means that I realize my importance lies in Him and how He views me...not in how I view myself or how others view me. It means going to that friend's house, even when it feels awkward. It means remembering that woman's name who I saw at church for 3 years {and even hugged on many occasions!!} It means realizing with humility and regret that she never failed to say hello to me by name, but I , to this day, can't tell you what hers is. It means being there when someone needs to sloppy cry and share their heart, even when I feel like it's "drama" and a mess of their own making. It means getting to know without judgment those who are different than I am--even those who have different beliefs than I do. It means being available--really available--to someone when they're weak and broken. I like the clean, easy problems that can be solved with a prayer or a Bible study. The deep wounds that are messy and require surgery are the ones that I tend to run from. But Jesus didn't. He approached the demon-possessed, the leperous, and even the decaying dead. He never held back. He gave Himself freely. What would my world look like if I did that? What would our world look ike if we all did that? |
This space is reserved for Founder Mandy's perspectives and viewpoints of Scripture. Man is fallible, but God is not. It's strongly encouraged that you study the Scripture for yourself and allow the Holy Spirit to guide you in your understanding.
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November 2023
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