Wednesday's Post: It's All About Me

There is an idea that has been rolling around in my head, daily gathering momentum and growing in size.  I wanted to share it with you.

I've lately been struck with the difference between serving others and serving myself, and even more specifically, the difference between wanting/needing/demanding gratitude for the things I do for others, and the biblical proclamation that I should be doing everything (yes, everything) as though I am doing it for God.

The proclamation, which I believe I have known from childhood, is Colossians 3:23-24:

²³Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, ²⁴ since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. 

I have quoted this verse to children in regard to chores and schoolwork.  It was manipulative, really, and not at all successful.  I have treated this information as if it were for others--specifically, for me to hand out to others--instead of what it truly is.

What is it?

Truly, it is a call to freedom.  My heart gets all wadded up and crabby when my people don't appreciate their hot breakfasts or rides to school/sports/social events.  I'm doing this for them, don't they appreciate me?

When I do it for the Lord Christ, for Jesus, there is no room for crabbiness.  Really, there is no room for me.  If it's all about Him, if I'm all about serving Him, then every gesture is made beautiful, and significant.  If no one here on earth appreciates it, or heck, even notices it, well who cares?

This is big for me.  I think perhaps that I come from a long line of martyrs.  You know...women who have sacrificed all for the good of their selfish, thankless offspring.  I (being one of those selfish, thankless offspring) mean no disrespect.  I see myself falling into their habits as faithfully as I bake my mother's banana bread recipe, as often as I jokingly shake my fist at my husband, identical to the way my grandmother shook hers at my grandfather.  These things happen.  

But what IF.

What if I dragged myself out of bed to whip up smoothies and sack lunches, not for the thanks of sleepy, silent teenagers, but rather for the glory of God?  What if, when my feelings are out of whack over this or that, I choose to offer up my acts of service to the Lord Christ instead of to man (or men, or boys)?  How freeing should it be to know that my every little thing is being noted and tallied and counted towards my inheritance?  How awesome to hear that "Well done, good and faithful servant" echoing backward through infinite time, from the moment of my arrival in heaven, to now.

And bottom line: how altered might my family be, were I to live that verse instead of handing it out like so much trivial dogma?