We were getting out of the van at our church this weekend when Zoe acted exactly like the impulsive four year old that she is and ran out into the parking lot directly in front of an oncoming vehicle.
For a split second my brain was paralyzed as I saw the scene unfolding. Thankfully it only allowed for a split second of paralysis and then it kicked into gear and I ran to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back to safety. I may or may not have yelled? Loudly? Not sure.
Nothing can shock us back into the knowledge of the preciousness of life like the imminence of death.
And yet, in this mothering journey, filled with mundane and repetitive tasks (the dishwasher needs to be unloaded again?!) I am reminded that if I am not careful, the extraordinary can become ordinary to me.
I've been reading through the account of Moses start in life in Exodus recently.
The person of Moses' mom especially has challenged me. A mother who, according to the writer of Hebrews, states that, "By faith, Moses' parents hid him for three months after he was born, because they knew he was no ordinary child, and they were not afraid of the king's edict."
When she gave birth, she had death on her mind, for she knew the death sentence hanging over his head.
Not much is written after this account about her. Without these few words, her actions would probably have remained unseen, unknown, and definitely unliked by anyone on facebook. Yet, that didn't make her actions unimportant.
I love the words of Jesus in Matthew 6:4, "Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."
I serve the God who sees me.
Every quiet hidden mundane moment.
The importance of what I do for God is not contingent upon how many people see what I do. The promise is that what is done for God, even when nobody notices (including my children!) is seen and rewarded by Him.
"Self-righteous service requires external rewards. It needs to know that people see and appreciate the effort. It seeks human applause - with proper religious modesty of course. True service rests contented in hiddenness. It does not fear the lights and blare of attention, but it does not seek them either. Since it is living out a new Center of reference, the divine nod of approval is completely sufficient." - Richard Foster in Celebration of Discipline
The beautiful and amazing story of Scripture is that all of the seemingly insignificant, painful, unexpected, and unseen parts of our lives are connected to what God is doing.
A baby floating in a basket was God's doing.
Connected to a bigger story.
My long days filled with referring fights, picking up toys, making meals, cleaning up meals, rinse and repeat, are God's doing.
I am raising children in an unfolding drama, who will go on to live their own bigger story.
All of us connected to the biggest story.
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