“Christ did not save you with an eye toward what he might get from you.”
Greg Morse
“Be extraordinary today!” my mom would tell me as I got out of the car for another regular Tuesday at school. “Connect to God, Connect to others, Do something great” I would read on the wall as I walked into church each week. These messages really sank into my being as a teenager, and so began my journey to build an extraordinarily great life. Whatever that meant…
I, like many today, have a tendency to get bored in the mundanity of daily life. I so long for the thrill of something new and exciting. Eventually, my desire for change won out and I moved to another country. Thinking I “have” to be unique. I “have” to do something big. Something meaningful. Something that really counts. How shocked I was when living abroad became the new normal. When life just became the same again. Wake up. Go to work. Leave work. Get a coffee. Go on a run. Go home. Repeat. I found myself already looking for the next thing. Where do I go from here?
I remember days as a kid looking forward to an upcoming vacation. Waiting and waiting. Counting the number of “sleeps” until the day would finally arrive. The night before, I could hardly sleep because of all the built up excitement. Then I’d be woken up by dad around 3 a.m. because, of course, he wanted to avoid traffic as much as possible. After a couple of hours of driving, we’d end up at Cracker Barrel (what I remember as the unofficial sponsor of Phillips’ roadtrip breakfasts). Even through the lack of sleep I never felt more energized because this wasn’t just an ordinary day. This one was special. It was different. Something long hoped for had finally come. Contrast that with the mundanity of a normal day. My fifteenth alarm screams at me to get out of bed again, while the drudgery of an ordinary day tells me I should snooze it and roll back over… again. Finally, I get up and face the day, albeit not always in a “carpe diem” sort of way. If I’m honest, the day will usually begin with an “Oh God, give me the strength for another one.” If only every day could feel like the thrill of waking up for vacation.
Early in my life, as I imagine many of us had, I felt a pull toward greatness and success. I wanted to be the best at anything I attempted. I so desired the recognition that came from performance. If I saw that something wasn’t going the way I had planned, I would often quit because it was obviously better to give up rather than actually have to admit I had failed. That I wasn’t good enough for the task. If I tried and failed, people would know that I wasn’t perfect (as if I actually had anyone fooled). I could never let that happen. And so I carefully crafted the version of myself that I wanted everyone to see, and it most certainly did not include my failures or weaknesses. My identity was so intertwined with my abilities and status. If (when) I came up short, it would crush me. It took me a long time to realize that I was deriving my value from what I could do. I walked through life so heavy and weighed down by my own self-loathing because I couldn’t measure up to the person I wanted to be. I was failing to be the person I portrayed to the world, and that is an unbearable weight to carry through life. The vision that I always had for my life is drastically different from where I’ve ended up so far. I don’t feel extraordinary. In fact, in complete transparency, I feel like a failure most of the time, and, well... that’s depressing. The life that I had planned is not the one I’m living. In trying to be great, I end up overshadowed by those who are greater. There will always be someone better, stronger, faster, richer, more spiritual, etc. They say comparison is the thief of joy, and when I see people experiencing the life I planned for myself, I internalize the truth of that statement. Is it really so wrong to have great expectations and ambitions in this life? I think intentions matter in this case, and I have had to grow substantially in this area. Learning how to balance contentment and ambition. I’ve had to learn (oh, am I still learning) to ground my reality in Christ. Content to find my purpose and identity in Him regardless of my circumstances in life. If He calls me to a seat of honor at the table, praise God; if He doesn’t, praise God (Luke 14:8).
I’ve learned that I’m not called to be a success. I’m actually not even called to be great. I’m simply called to be faithful. There is a reason Jesus says, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Notice He does not say, “Well done, good and faithful leader, innovator, CEO, pastor, influencer, entrepreneur.” He says, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23). For so long I wanted to be described as someone who “turned the world upside down,” like Paul and Silas in Acts. I wanted to change the world. The trouble that I’ve found with this type of thinking is that I miss the beauty and the magic of ordinary moments. The mystery and power of God in a shared cup of coffee with a friend, the power in showing up to work and making sure the copies are done in time for class, going on another run and listening for God’s voice in the silence. I’m becoming more and more convinced that the greatest influencers in the world are not those with millions of followers, but rather the people who are faithfully committed to the mundane. They walk and serve faithfully in the place where God has put them. Maybe the extraordinary life, at least as far as Jesus is concerned, doesn’t mean a lot of people will know your name. The extraordinary life is a dedicated, humble life of consistent service. Showing up every. day. Loving those around you. Could it really be that simple? To live an extraordinary life doesn’t mean I have to be perfect, have a big following, a platform, move to another country, or anything like that. These are not inherently bad, but rather than desiring and striving for any of them, I am called to be faithful. To humble myself. Live faithfully in the servant’s quarters and wait. If the Master sees fit to elevate my place at the table, I take it with honor. If He sees fit to leave me where I am, then I take it with honor. I am called to cultivate whatever garden He has placed me in. What does it mean to be extraordinary? It could simply mean I am supposed to be extra ordinary. It’s the stay at home mom doing her best to pour the love and knowledge of Jesus into her kids each day. That’s extraordinary. It’s the bus driver who faithfully shows up on time with a smile every morning. That’s extraordinary. It’s the blue collar dad that goes into to work each morning without fail to provide for his family. That’s extraordinary. It’s the single person in their 20s who devotes their extra time to volunteering in the community. That’s extraordinary. Maybe no one knows their name, but I am learning that is not the point. I must look for the simple joys of daily life. Praying for Spirit eyes to see people as God sees them. Asking questions such as: How can I be faithful in this moment? How can I be more like Christ? How can I redeem this seemingly ordinary moment as an act of worship to the Father?
or·di·nar·y
/ˈôrdnˌerē/
adjective
with no special or distinctive features; normal.
ex·traor·di·nar·y
/ikˈstrôrdnˌerē,ekˈstrôrdnˌerē/
adjective
very unusual or remarkable.
I love this interpretation of Romans 12 by Eugene Peterson:
So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.
Eugene Peterson
How have I been influenced by the cultural pull of my day? Have I believed the lie that I must strive to create a life for myself, that I must create my own meaning and build my entire identity on my own? That is exhausting. We were not created to carry the weight of our own identity and purpose. We will let ourselves down every time. The existentialism of our day says you must create yourself. God says you must lose yourself. Koinophobia is the fear that you’ve lived an ordinary life. I have so deeply felt that fear, but what is so wrong with the ordinary? When I let God define me, the fear of an “ordinary life” has to leave. If I do not find my identity in Christ alone, I will be forced to look for it elsewhere, and nothing else can bear the weight of the purpose for which I was created. This is where the fear and anxiety of the ordinary enter my life: when I have a misplaced understanding of where my value and identity originate. I was created to image Christ and find my rest in Him alone (Ephesians 2:8-10, Matthew 11:25-30).
A river touches places of which its source knows nothing. Jesus says that if we have received his fullness, it doesn’t matter how small the visible measure of our lives may be; out of us will flow rivers that will bless the farthest reaches of the earth. We have nothing to do with the outflow; it is the mighty work of God. God rarely allows a soul to see how great a blessing it is.
Oswald Chambers
Lord, when I seek my own glory, hide me. When I fear insignificance, comfort me. When I don’t know where to go, lead me.
