The Importance of the Mundane

I don’t know whether it’s a product of our culture, hardwired into our DNA, a result of the fall of man, or simply that we are greedy for our moment in the sun, but humanity tends to overlook the mundane as something unimportant, something not to be valued, something less than ideal.

Books, movies, and history are filled with stories of derring-do, tales of overcoming impossible situations, battling to victory despite the odds. We glorify those who are larger than life, who risk much, who dare to do, the movers, the shakers, the history makers. And we look down our noses at the quiet people, those who are backstage, the invisible workers who keep things running smoothy while the bigwigs garner all the glory.

 Even Christians aren’t immune to this mentality. We spend countless books and conferences lauding “those who made a difference” as long as the difference is public and huge and earth shaking.  As a teenager, I mourned the fact that I didn’t have a “great testimony” like those paraded on conference stages. You know the kind: the ones who had rebelled and turned their lives a round, those saved from a terrible life of addiction or crime, or those who’d “done great things for God” by saving lives or starting world renown ministries or serving in a country where their very lives were in danger. My life didn’t count because I was a “good” girl, didn’t get in trouble, did what I was supposed to do, etc. It was a quiet life, humbly (and sometimes not so humbly) serving God in my way in my place. Not center stage at all.

Is it any wonder there is such a sense of dissatisfaction with the  Christian life among stay at home mothers, teens who desire to be godly, but don’t want to  miss the chance for a great testimony, Christians who give up on doing great things for God because they are stuck in a menial job somewhere in a rural or small town or lost in the vastness of a big city where no one cares?

There is a passage in Sean Astin’s book There and Back Again that struck me with a spiritual truth. It wasn’t his intent, but I think it is the key to satisfaction in doing things well no matter where we are or what we’re doing. He recounts the visit of Sir Edmund Hillary to the set during filming of one of numerous “walking shots,” the kind that are monotonous and fill in between the “great” scenes.

“But not on this day.  Not with Sir Edmund Hillary sitting behind a monitor. I wanted the scene and my work in it to be worthy.  Somehow, with Hillary looking on, that simple walking shot became more important than all the other walking shots.” (There and Back Again, p. 198).

It was like a spotlight shining brightly in the dim, dusty attic of my endeavours. Christ is always present. Always there watching over the mundane tasks of my little life, with approval. What I do, how I live, may not find its way to center stage under the spotlights of the world arena and that’s okay. Just knowing He is present, is sufficient. It gives glory and majesty to all the little humdrum chores that no one else notices, that others take for granted. How much richer would our lives be if we really understood that principle? If we really chose to honour Christ in all we say and do regardless of recognition in the here and now?

Colossians 3:23 And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men.

It isn’t about doing things perfect; it’s about doing it for His approval. It’s about making Him smile. And that is the best kind of reward and makes even the mundane priceless.

Gratitude…the only New Year’s resolution that matters

New Year’s has always been a time of reflecting back on the past year and making a commitment (resolution) to do better in the coming year. But most of the things we choose to commit to (lose weight, work harder, stay focused) don’t really matter in the long run. If we are truthful, we make those resolutions to impress our family, friends, co-workers, etc with little or no intention of keeping them. Oh, we may try for a few weeks or months, then life gets in the way and the resolutions get tossed with yesterday’s newspaper.

Looking back on not just the past year, but life itself, I am hit with the overwhelming realization of how much I have been blessed, not just in spite of poor health, Covid, an earlier retirement than planned, etc, but because of those things.  God has my life planned from conception to transition to eternity and nothing takes Him by surprise. It isn’t a case of “oh, well, she messed up again, let’s see if I can fix this,” but a case of “here’s what I’ve got planned, let’s see what Carol does as part of that plan as she becomes an integral part of that plan.”

I know many Christians have a tendency to look at life as good things happen: yay, God; bad things happen: God doesn’t love me/I’ve done something wrong.  It’s based on a false premise and demonstrates a lack of gratitude.  Everything that happens, good and bad, are part and parcel of who we become. Trees don’t get strong without wind, coal doesn’t transform into diamonds without intense heat and pressure, pearls can’t form without irritations, caterpillars don’t morph into butterflies without death. The list goes on. Nature shows us in a myriad of different ways just how much care and forethought God put into designing our lives. We can choose to live in the shallows where it’s safe and warm and get mad when an occasional shark chases into our territory or the jellyfish come ashore with their unpleasant stings. Or we can choose to realize God designed those creatures and they are following their nature. We can choose to explore the depths and see the many marvels He created for those who are willing to take a risk.

We can accept with gratitude the blessings and problems that come our way. We can be grateful for the people He has placed in our paths, both friends and irritations who remind us to choose compassion and kindness and cover temporary things with love. We can be grateful God’s blessings don’t always come in the form of a paycheck or bonus, that He provides even if it isn’t our first choice of food or shelter. We read about the ravens bringing Elijah food during the famine, but never stop to see the ravens are bringing carrion—stuff a priest isn’t supposed to touch, much less eat. We grieve over tragic circumstances without understanding the hidden blessings. Daniel, castrated as a slave, which protected him from being forced to participate in pagan rituals for his foreign king.  Joseph, sold into slavery and thrown into prison, which placed him in the right place to become second hand to the Pharoah and instrumental in saving a nation.

Gratitude. a strong feeling of appreciation to someone or something for what the person has done to help you: (Cambridge Dictionary)

Maybe that’s the reason we don’t understand gratitude. We never acknowledge the Person who has helped us, done amazing things for us on a day-to-day basis which we miss because our focus is elsewhere. You can’t be grateful to a thing; it has to be a person. You can be grateful for things, but in the end that often tends to generate a payback mentality. Maybe that’s why we aren’t grateful to the One who provides all things. We can never pay Him back and we are conditioned by society to pay back.

 Romans 8:32 He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?

You can’t payback a gift.

It would take too many blogs to unpack everything in the above verse, but I hope you can walk away with this: Gratitude is the keystone for a contented life.  Not necessarily a wealthy, peaceful, prosperous, or even happy life. I don’t think you could ever say Joseph was happy in prison or as a slave. But his contentment to prosper where God planted him caught the attention of the most powerful man on earth at the time. That contentment is worth more than its weight in gold and it should be our New Year’s resolution to pursue gratitude.