Isn't that what it is all about? That daily wondering if what we are doing is really going to matter.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I fit into a small category of people who stand at the kitchen sink washing supper dishes feeling frustrated that I did nothing GREAT in the day. Then again, maybe I have more friends in this category than I realize.
I tend to live for those big moments. Most of my thoughts are directed on the future and anticipating excitment or dreading difficulty scheduled in my planner. When the fun things are over and done, I get a little depressed. When the hard things are over and done, I can usually find something else to worry over.
And there are times when I get really frustrated that my life story might end up being that I was a loving wife, a good mother and a faithful follower. It just doesn't always sounds like enough. And I want to be MORE than enough.
I want my list of accomplishments and achievements to be impressive. That may sounds prideful and arrogant, but I think almost everyone has that inner recognition drive - if we're honest with ourselves.
What if I could just simplify the way I see life? What if I could just stop trying to add more things to my list and enjoyed the white space?
I've always been a dreamer, and from a young age chased the idea of changing the world in one way or another. I was never sure how I could accomplish that, exactly, but I was reasonably sure it would be revealed to me in due time because it was my destiny.
Then I got married and had children and quit my job. Mundaneness crept in and whispered that those dreams of changing the world were frivolous and childish.
My mountaintop experiences would be much different than I had thought they would be.
But I'm seeing more clearly now. Every Thursday my children RACE to the living room window when they hear the garbage truck come down the street. It's not so much the fascination with the operation of the automated arm that grabs the can and lifts it high in the air before dumping it into the back of the truck. They love to wave at the lady driving the truck. They stand there in all their cuteness and smile and wave and giggle like fools. She always smiles and waves back. If they miss the pickup, my children are somewhat devastated.
It's such a small simple thing. So ridiculously easy. And yet I can't imagine that it doesn't change that lady's route just a bit.
But there, in all these insignificant waving-out-the-window moments, I see His plan for me. And that I will only be significant when I am actually pursuing insignificance - when I am the servant. When I am giving of myself to others as invisibly as I can.
At the end of the day, I'm finding it easier to lay down the work of my hands as an offering. And I find joy in knowing that I have given it all to the only One who will eternally remember anything good I have ever done.