It’s sometimes tricky to approach Scripture like today’s Gospel when your life is, well, average.
I don’t often encounter the desperate needs of another, and because of that, I can sometimes question if I’m really making an impact.
We don’t need to look far to be reminded of the immensity of suffering, of poverty, and of injustice innumerable people encounter each day in the world. And I’m just here, in my own home, with my own little struggles, often feeling quite incapable in light of the immense need I know exists.
And yet, Jesus comes quietly to me. So quietly I often don’t see it.
He comes in my family’s need for a meal, in my daughters’ desire to talk when I’d rather be texting a friend. He comes in the cries needing consoling and in the laundry and in the sink loaded with dishes.
In fact, He often comes in ways I’d rather Him not. Because slogging through the day as a mother can be monotonous and boring, and maybe I’d even like the thrill of a real obvious catastrophe to lay myself on the altar of.
God’s call for me is subtle, but it is no less sanctifying. My home and the people in it are my Lazarus, and my love for them has the power to change my soul. In the tiny bits of every day, done well, I carry my cross. And so do you.Jesus comes quietly to me. // Blythe Fike Click To Tweet
Jesus, give us the grace to live it.
Blythe Fike is the wife of Kirby and mother of 8 smallish kids. She loves the quiet life in small town SoCal. She is a contributing author to our children’s devotional prayer book, Rise Up. You can find out more about her here.