It’s dark. I am in a sloping, enclosed, stone hallway. The smooth slate slightly slippery beneath my feet. Jesus is at my side.
Portraits crowd the walls. Our inner glow illuminates them. Innately, I know they are saints; worshippers of Jesus. I step closer and discover the images are actually snapshots of everyday life. A woman sitting in her kitchen, apron over her head. A mother folding piles of laundry. A lady putting away groceries. Another at a desk, answering phone calls. A man, leaning on a mop, surrounded by miles of tile flooring. A guy repairing a car. Another driving a combine. A fellow staring at financials. A elderly woman sitting at a table set for two - the other chair is empty “She invited me to dinner every night for years.” I hear in my head.
Everyday people doing everyday things - fetching water from a well, gardening, holding a child's hand, cutting vegetables, preparing a meal, setting a table, repairing a broken bicycle, mending a shirt, driving a car, kicking a ball, mowing a lawn - all time periods, all nations, all manner of dress and appearance. I looked at Jesus quizzically as if to say “What is all this”?
“They did these things in worship to me. They worshipped me in their ‘everyday' and it became holy. It is holy because I am holy, and I joined them in their ‘everyday’.”
Profound. Profound and challenging. How often do I invite Jesus to fold laundry with me? To load the dishwasher? To sweep the floor, cut vegetables, take out the recycling? I often put my brain in neutral and zone out.
My encounter closed with Jesus saying “Sit with this truth for awhile; it is deeper than it first appears”.
Yes, yes it is. When I invite Jesus in, things change, alter, morph. My attitude improves, I am happier - joyful even. Little things don’t bother me as much, irritation fades, frustration flees. I need to invite Jesus all day, everyday.
Everyday, all day.