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Meeting God in the mundane + Finding joy and grace in the mess of motherhood, ministry, and urban missions

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ministry is messy /or/ life mirrors the gospel

October 23, 2017 Jacqui
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{This post was originally written in September 2016 and republished as part of this series.}

Between the not-quite-housetrained puppy, the 7 month old baby, who still spits up, and the random 10+ children who are in and out of the house on any given day, our carpet is, in a word...GROSS.

Even still, we try to do what we can to keep it from getting worse. We take the dog outside often, wipe up accidents/spills as best as we can, and encourage everyone to take their shoes off at the front door. In typical kid fashion, though, they're forgetful and don't always remove their shoes. Other times, they just plain don't want to listen. Because it's inconvenient, or they think they know better. Rules can be hard and stupid. So along with "buckle your seatbelt," "pick up your garbage," "dirty clothes go in the basket," and "don't fart on your brother," I've added "take off your shoes" to the soundtrack that plays on "repeat all" in our home. 

It will come as no surprise, then, that one day we discovered someone had dog poop on the bottom of their shoe. Unfortunately, that shoe had already made its way around most of the first floor, particularly the carpeted area. The kids were disgusted and screaming, the little boy felt terrible and was crying, and Ben, of course, was in disaster mode and calmly doling out instructions to everyone. He functions much better in a crisis than I.

"It's ok. It's not a big deal," he said to the little boy. "We can clean it up. Why don't you give me your shoe and I'll wash it off in the bathroom."

I took a kid into the living room with me and we started on the carpet. The little boy was sitting at the table with his sister, just sobbing, and both Ben and I kept assuring him it was ok. I can only assume he must get in a lot of trouble at home for making a mess.

The child who was helping me was indignant. He was mad that the boy didn't take off his shoes, mad that he didn't notice the poop sooner, mad that he had to help clean it up--and he kept loudly voicing his grievances. For as often as he wears his own shoes into the house, it could've just as easily been him who tracked in poop, and I encouraged him to be gracious.

I have to admit, I was frustrated, too, but trying really hard to maintain a poker face. This is why we tell them to take off their shoes, I thought. We have rules for a reason. I gently reminded the crowd of that fact and went back to cleaning the carpet. And as I was kneeling there, scrubbing the filth away, my husband quietly said to me, probably sensing my irritation, "this is the cost of doing ministry, babe. It's ok. It's just carpet."

See what I mean about calm under pressure? But I knew he was right. This is the cost of doing ministry. 

You see, ministry is messy...and it's supposed to be.

It's supposed to be difficult, frustrating, annoying, and even loathsome at times. Ministry isn't heart-eye emojis and feel good music and the, "we're all doing fine," business. Because the reality is, we're not all fine, and certainly not all the time.  

Ministry is being "Christ with skin on." That's how my husband describes it, anyways. 

It's easy to think, and I've certainly been guilty of this myself, that "ministry" is a rosy, glorious, wonderful thing. Like we're going to take all these lost people in our neighborhood or workplace and we're going to listen to them, we're going to feed them, we're going to tell them how much Jesus loves them, and wouldn't that be just grand. Maybe they'll start coming to church with us on Sundays, and if we're really lucky, we might even be able squeak out a sinner's prayer. And then we can check them off our list. Mission accomplished. Job well done, good and faithful servant.

But if you sit with that phrase for a spell and dig in to what that really means, I believe you will find this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. {Romans 5:8}

Ministry, in the truest form of the word, is entering into the mess and filth of broken lives and loving well enough to stand in the gap between them and God. It's the privilege of being able to stay, with arms outstretched, that it's okay. Regardless of the mess they find themselves in right now, they are loved. They are wanted, valuable, and important. Not in spite of themselves, but because of Christ, who died for them. In their place. And there's nothing more they need to do, because it is finished. 

It's the gospel in the flesh.

True ministry exists in the gap between sinner and Savior. We must be willing to enter into the mess, to kneel down alongside them in the filth and start scrubbing. In order to become Christ with skin on, we need to hang our desires, our possessions, our control, and our pride up on the cross and let them die.

The carpet cleaner washed the dirt away, and the stains were barely visible by the time we were done. It was like it never happened. The little boy finally calmed down and realized he wasn't in trouble, that everything really was okay, and they all went back to running and playing as usual.

Only in the paradox of Christ is it possible that out of death flows new life and from surrender, victory. That he who loses his life will save it. The gap in between death and resurrection is a holy one--it's where God does His best work. 

Every time I give a gentle reminder, change a poopy diaper, scrape gum off the basement floor, scrub dog dirt from the carpet, shuttle a child to the doctor, or help a teen sort out a tricky relationship issue, I'm standing in the gap. A witness to impending new life, both in my heart and in those around me. That's ministry, in all it's messy glory. 

And God is glorified in this holy obedience to the ordinary. 

 


This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, 31 Ways God Paved the Road to Urban Missions. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. To receive these posts directly in your inbox every week, subscribe below!

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In Write 31 Days Tags Ministry, Urban Missions
← when the city becomes home /or/ where your treasure isthe currency of souls /or/ wake up from the dream →

HELLO!


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I'm Jacqui, the mom behind the camera. Wife of one + momma to five. Writer + speaker. Unqualified philosopher + theologian. Accidental mentor. Chaos manager. Lover of coffee + wine, perspective, and Jesus. Truth teller. Freedom fighter. Worth affirmer. Wanna-be author + world changer. Occasional cusser. Laundry piler. Emoji enthusiast. It's nice to meet you!

I hope you'll stay awhile and take a look at life through my lens, as I seek to find joy in the mess and walk with God through the beauty of everyday life.

 

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Today was decent. 💜🎂🎉
Today was decent. 💜🎂🎉
This is good news,
because I am equal parts 
Target and tragedy,
self-loathing and inspired,
elated and sullen,
justice-centric and self-centered,
compassionate and sarcastic,
privileged and poor,
doom-and-gloom and naive optimism,
Jesus-loving and truth-avoiding,
passionate and passive,
faithful and full of doubt,
confident and terrified,
judgmental and merciful,
arrogant and humble,
spinach salad lunch and fried chicken dinner.
I am everything and nothing all at once.
I am not who I am all the time.
I am just me.
.
.
.
Side note: I found this quote from the Invisibilia podcast on last years calendar.
Related: 1) Apparently, I started taking notes on calendars around May of last year. That habit is still going strong. 2) If you’ve never listened to the Invisibilia podcast, check it out! 🤓💖
This is good news, because I am equal parts Target and tragedy, self-loathing and inspired, elated and sullen, justice-centric and self-centered, compassionate and sarcastic, privileged and poor, doom-and-gloom and naive optimism, Jesus-loving and truth-avoiding, passionate and passive, faithful and full of doubt, confident and terrified, judgmental and merciful, arrogant and humble, spinach salad lunch and fried chicken dinner. I am everything and nothing all at once. I am not who I am all the time. I am just me. . . . Side note: I found this quote from the Invisibilia podcast on last years calendar. Related: 1) Apparently, I started taking notes on calendars around May of last year. That habit is still going strong. 2) If you’ve never listened to the Invisibilia podcast, check it out! 🤓💖
“Every time I have set out to translate the book (or story, or hopelessly long essay) that exists in such brilliant detail on the big screen of my limbic system onto a piece of paper (which, let’s face it, was once a towering tree crowned with leaves and a home to birds), I grieve for my own lack of talent and intelligence. Every. Single. Time. Were I smarter, more gifted, I could pin down a closer facsimile of the wonders I see. I believe, more than anything, that this grief of constantly having to face down our own inadequacies is what keeps people from being writers. Forgiveness, therefore, is key. I can’t write the book I want to write, but I can and will write the book I am capable of writing. Again and again throughout the course of my life I will forgive myself.” ✨
.
—Ann Patchett, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage
“Every time I have set out to translate the book (or story, or hopelessly long essay) that exists in such brilliant detail on the big screen of my limbic system onto a piece of paper (which, let’s face it, was once a towering tree crowned with leaves and a home to birds), I grieve for my own lack of talent and intelligence. Every. Single. Time. Were I smarter, more gifted, I could pin down a closer facsimile of the wonders I see. I believe, more than anything, that this grief of constantly having to face down our own inadequacies is what keeps people from being writers. Forgiveness, therefore, is key. I can’t write the book I want to write, but I can and will write the book I am capable of writing. Again and again throughout the course of my life I will forgive myself.” ✨ . —Ann Patchett, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage
This Monday felt Monday-er than most. Anyone else? When the alarm goes off, sometimes I just cannot believe it’s morning already... So for our #MondayMorningPoll today: Are you a chronic snooze-pusher, or do you tend to hop right out of bed in the morning? Vote in my stories ⬆️! Which one do you think describes most people? 🧐😴⤵️
This Monday felt Monday-er than most. Anyone else? When the alarm goes off, sometimes I just cannot believe it’s morning already... So for our #MondayMorningPoll today: Are you a chronic snooze-pusher, or do you tend to hop right out of bed in the morning? Vote in my stories ⬆️! Which one do you think describes most people? 🧐😴⤵️
Today was hard but redeemable. Doesn’t that make for the best kind of story? 💝
Today was hard but redeemable. Doesn’t that make for the best kind of story? 💝
Tastes like Spring. ✨🍦🍥
Tastes like Spring. ✨🍦🍥
Spring embodies the very nature of hope. Regardless of how many dark, frigid, lonely months are spent watching, waiting, and longing, Spring never fails to show up. When you start to believe winter will last forever, that this year, Spring just might fail to come, she finally arrives. She’s never in a hurry. After all, what would hope be without great anticipation? She comes, not necessarily with warmth or sunshine or fanfare, but always with the steadfast evidence of resurrection in small and humble places. Do you see it? 🌿
Spring embodies the very nature of hope. Regardless of how many dark, frigid, lonely months are spent watching, waiting, and longing, Spring never fails to show up. When you start to believe winter will last forever, that this year, Spring just might fail to come, she finally arrives. She’s never in a hurry. After all, what would hope be without great anticipation? She comes, not necessarily with warmth or sunshine or fanfare, but always with the steadfast evidence of resurrection in small and humble places. Do you see it? 🌿
Really, I would love to hear your comments. What is the single biggest barrier between you and being present?
.
Is it because you’re...
Distracted
Too busy
Overwhelmed
Numbing pain
Unhappy
Disappointed 
Jealous
Dissatisfied
Not enough
Addicted
...Or something else?
.
No judgement here. 🤗 TIA!
Really, I would love to hear your comments. What is the single biggest barrier between you and being present? . Is it because you’re... Distracted Too busy Overwhelmed Numbing pain Unhappy Disappointed Jealous Dissatisfied Not enough Addicted ...Or something else? . No judgement here. 🤗 TIA!
I saw a meme the other day that said, “So, are we not doing Spring?” 🙌🏻😂
.
“Spring” couldn’t be further away from anything resembling rainbows and sunshine at the moment, which brings me to our #MondayMorningPoll: Is it hard for you to live in the present—to truly sit with the way things ARE at this very moment (not how you wish they would be or think they should be)—or does that come easily to you? I find being present in the present to be one of the most difficult tasks. I’m so often a master of distraction. What about you? Do you spend most of your mental/emotional time in the present or somewhere else (past/future/distracted)? Vote in my stories ⬆️ and/or comment below ⬇️!
I saw a meme the other day that said, “So, are we not doing Spring?” 🙌🏻😂 . “Spring” couldn’t be further away from anything resembling rainbows and sunshine at the moment, which brings me to our #MondayMorningPoll: Is it hard for you to live in the present—to truly sit with the way things ARE at this very moment (not how you wish they would be or think they should be)—or does that come easily to you? I find being present in the present to be one of the most difficult tasks. I’m so often a master of distraction. What about you? Do you spend most of your mental/emotional time in the present or somewhere else (past/future/distracted)? Vote in my stories ⬆️ and/or comment below ⬇️!
Sunday.✨
Sunday.✨
 

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