Being on the race is not always roses and sunshine. There are good days, and bad days, times of celebration and times of sorrow, times of struggles and times of ease. All in all life on the race is still life. Western life and life overseas is not that much different aside from the location. Whether your state side or on another continent life still throws curve balls, it still showers you with blessings, the sun rises and sets, and the world keeps spinning. On the race I’ve been in hard situations, I’ve had hard conversations, and I’ve had hard realizations. More than I’d care to admit. God has stretched me, challenged me, pursued me, embraced me, encouraged me and loved me during my race. But more times than I’d prefer he has put me in hard circumstances. What I learned from this is there is no growth without being challenged.
Something I have really struggled with on the race is entitlement. I feel entitled as an American to have things, certain things, and a certain way. If situations don’t result in my satisfaction I then feel disrespected. I have voiced my opinion, I have shared my feelings, and I have made mountains out of molehills. All of which seem to fall under the wayside. Sometimes it seems like people just don’t care. When in reality that’s exactly it. People don’t often care about all things the same way. Some people like it hot, some like it cold, some like it clean, some don’t mind a mess, some want the door opened, some want the door closed, some people prefer scary movies, some people prefer funny movies. Which ever way is goes we’re all different and have different, habits, routines, and opinions. This is something I’ve always known but never been fully aware of.
Something I have always prided myself on is cleanliness. Cleanliness is next to godliness in my book. I find immense contentment and joy when things are nice and tidy. Let me let you in on a little secret. Life on the race is the farthest thing from tidy. Despite how much I advocate, and pick up after others, messes just multiply and grow in size. It’s disheartening. But its something I’ve had to deal with. Living in community with a lot of people, you tend to realize just how different people really are. Something specific I have asked of my team from the beginning was if you use a dish, please wash it and put it away. A simple request. But not so urgent from others perspective. This has greatly challenged me.
Last week I was talking with one of our squad coaches about Gods righteousness. I was right in the middle of a sentence and she reached over the table and started gathering dishes. Other peoples dishes!! I grabbed them out of her hand and I said “No Mam!” “You did not come on this trip to be the maid, they can do their own dishes!” I was quite bothered to say the least. She proceeded to nearby tables to collect more dishes! I affirmed my statement, “stop picking up other peoples dishes!” I grabbed them from her hand and said, “you don’t worry, I’ll do them.” I was aggravated at the commitment I had just made but was relieved that she didn’t have to bother with it. I took them in the kitchen and we continued talking up the stairs to her room to finish our conversation. Low and behold their were more dirty dishes upstairs! I was ticked at this point. I told her not to touch them and convinced her I would do them later. Upon walking into her room I was so frazzled I completely forgot what we were talking about. I just continued ranting about the dishes. I told her my frustrations from the last 4 months and how disrespectful I thought people were to leave things for others to pick up. I griped and complained and pleaded my case. In the most calming voice she says to me, “what is the big deal? They are just dishes.” “Just clean them.” She insisted. I continued to explain more about my anger and frustration until I was nearly out of breath. She said “do you know the story of the Last Supper?”
“Yes mam, of course.” I assured her.
She began to tell me anyway, as I knew she would; probably insinuating some obvious point I didn’t see yet.
She continued, it was the evening of the Last Supper; the disciples were to make all the arrangements. The place, the food, and all the preparations. But they forgot to assign someone to wash everyone’s feet. Washing feet prior to a meal in Jesus’ time had great significance. It was a genuine display of humility and servant hood. Also in the first century walking in sandals on filthy roads ensured dirty feet. It was imperative that feet be washed before a communal meal, especially since they reclined at low tables with the bottoms of their feet clearly on display. Feet were typically washed by the lowliest of servants. Who would be the one to wash the disciples feet? You guessed it, Jesus. Jesus came not at king and conqueror but as a suffering servant. He humbled himself to the lowliest of positions and served his disciples. (John 13:4) “He got up from the table took off his outer clothing and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples feet, and drying them with the towel he wrapped around himself.”
At this point I saw where the conversation was going and was immediately convicted.
Jesus didn’t come to be served but to serve. The humility expressed by His act with a towel and washbasin foreshadowed His ultimate act of humility and love on the cross.
When Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, He told them (and us), “I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you” (John 13:15). As His followers, we are to emulate Him, serving one another in lowliness of heart and mind, seeking to build one another up in humility and love. When we seek the preeminence, we displease the Lord who promised that true greatness in His kingdom is attained by those with a servant’s heart. When we have that servant’s heart, the Lord promised, we will be greatly blessed.
So in the grand scheme of things, She’s right. They’re just dishes. If anything I should be glad to bless them by doing their dishes. I should just humble myself, swallow my pride and lavish them with love by “just doing the dish.” I was so humbled by this perspective change that I walked out of our conversation thanking her, and with a joyful heart I went and collected all the dishes upstairs, downstairs and in the kitchen and washed them. One by one. As I sang songs of praise to our humble King. Now when I look at dirty dishes lying around I see “dirty feet” and feel honored to bless my peers and my friends by “just doing their dishes.”
