We like those words. We use them a lot.
Sometimes they’re accompanied by guilt. “Are you serving God?”
Gosh. I don’t know. I hope so. I mean I haven’t fed any orphans…or led anyone in the sinner’s prayer today, but I want to serve God. I try.
Should we want to serve God? Yes, but we over-complicate it. Our God is a God of order and simplicity. He has great things for us, great plans for our lives, but He also reminds us not to “…despise the day of small things.” (Zech. 4:7)
Maybe that’s where you are today. Maybe today is a day of small things.
A day of homework.
A day of…Monday.
A day of 9:00-5:00 monotony.
A day of cleaning.
A day of laundry.
A day of the small, the unimportant.
I think we get the wrong idea of what it means to serve God.
We see the revivials, the crowds, the martyrs, and we forget that the same Man who commissioned us to go into all the world also told us that a cup of cold water counts to Him. (Matt. 10:42)
Should we aim low? Should we grow complacent? Of course not!
But some days are just small days. And guess what? They count.
Slowly the Lord has been redefining what I consider “ministry” through a verse that I’ve heard a thousand times, but never stopped to think about.
“For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
Than dwell in the tents of wickedness.”
We’ve all heard this verse. We’ve probably sung it in worship, but as I considered it, really meditated on it I saw something I never had before.
A doorkeeper in the house of my God.
And as those words swirled in my head, I started to understand what the Psalmist meant. Serving God isn’t glamorous. It isn’t for the crowds. It’s a servant’s job. And what do servants do?
Whatever your small things are, whatever you’re working at, remember that God sees. Remember that he cares. And remember that sometimes the “good works which God prepared before hand (Eph. 2:10)” are small.
But so were the nails.
So were the thorns.
So was the audience for His resurrection.
Sometimes we aren’t called to be rockstars in the house of our God. Sometimes we get to be doorkeepers.
And that needs to be big enough for us.