Jesus...the King?

As I am, yes, washing dishes something occurs to me, Jesus died to be my savior but rose again to be King. I realize He isn't always Lord of my life. I have accepted Him as savior, yet not as Lord. When I feel like I am missing out on the 'abundant life' He promises it's always because I have yet, again, taken the throne. By doing so I reject the eternal and abundant life He provides in His resurrection. That day Jesus is not living in me. I am living in me. A zombie Lori has taken over. I was thinking about Jesus being evident in me. He says we will be known as His by our love. It's easy to love orphaned children in Haiti. It's easy to love the homeless man under the tree in the Walmart parking lot. It's easy to love the single mother with four daughters next door. It's easy to love my children..... when they are sleeping. It's easy to love my husband..... when he is away. What about when the opportunities to love intimately are shoved in my face?? Those who know me better than anyone know Lori in and of herself is a very ugly person. By God's grace and the love of Jesus that transcends flesh and humanity they are able to love me despite my horribleness and look to the future hope of Jesus being glorified in me. It's not easy to love people that you don't like. It's definitely not our first, or even second choice BUT this is where that de-throning action takes place. I have to let God's grace and the love of Jesus that is crazy about said person supersede my knowing their flesh by my flesh. I am so curious because yesterday I was in tears all day over two children in Haiti that I was gathering supplies for to send to them in a love package, longing to hug them and communicate the father's heart full of love to them, but today I find myself disdainfully rushing my children through the motions of dinner, homework, bed prep, etc. so that I can get them out of my hair. Maybe I am the only horrible person out there who finds it difficult to be loving to those closest to me, but just in case I am not, I confess, my heart of compassion and patience abounds towards people I hardly know but when it comes down to really being 1Corinthians 13 to my home dwellers: it seems impossible. It comes so unnaturally to me to love and to be loving, perhaps even to be lovable. I know that it's imperative that I allow Jesus to be King in my life, yet time and time again my ugly flesh just plops itself right in that seat wearing the crown. Lord, I don't want to be so arrogant, so disobedient that I strut around wearing a crown that is only suited for your precious head. I want to love with your heart. I know you feel about my children the same way you feel about the children in Haiti that I allow myself to be so broken over. Your heart, your love is not selective. Forgive me for being as such with it.

Dirty Dishes

There are six of us in our home, when Cory isn't gone. When he is gone, there are four kids to one me, three of which are able to dirty dishes themselves, or at least aid one another in dirtying them. They often pile up and at any given time a visitor will be witness to our dirty dishes in the sink. I also put off doing dishes until absolutely necessary because it is so repetitive and seems to be a revolving door of work.
I will tell you here, my in-laws have an incredible house keeper. She has come to our house several times over the past few years, during both pregnancies with the boys and for short periods afterwards. After her visits our house quickly reverts back to the chaotic disaster that I am coming to understand probably won't get much better for many years to come. I've got several kids and the house is messy. It's just the way it is and no amount of neurotic obsessing over it is going to change that fact. However, still when messes would begin to pile up and I would feel the tension in the back of my neck I would consider, much to my relief that 'tomorrow' Felicitas was coming to help.
I was thinking about this as I had a stack of dishes that I was making my way through earlier. On bottom were the silverware, the cups, the small bowls. On top were the cups and larger bowls used for mixing or popcorn. You get the point. I quickly washed and rinsed the larger bowls and set them out of the way to dry so I could get to the smaller ones in the water, at the bottom of the sink. I like getting the larger ones out of the way first because of the visual clutter. It helps me feel like I'm making progress. My silverware, I'll confess 9 out of 10 times has peanut butter or oat meal resting on it, which has usually hung out long enough to dry and get a little stubborn come wash time. Gross, I know. Surprisingly, I find myself time and again frustrated with the fact that the dishes become dirty, AGAIN. Now, it's silly of me to expect that just because I wash the dishes they won't become dirty again, in fact, the whole point of me cleaning them is so someone can eat or drink off of them.
I have been in such an odd, frustrating state for the past month and can find no logical explanation for the sudden change in attitude, mindset and spiritual climate. I rehearse conversations with God in my head, over and over again, often complaining and sharing my obvious confusion, frustration and desperation.
My emotional, spiritual, and psychological state has been much like my dirty dishes that pile up in our sink. I realized how so many times, the 'big' things that the Lord has dealt with in my life only cleared the way to get to the small things that needed to be cleaned with more care, more attention. Jesus has had to wash my dishes countless times. I find myself in dismay each time He has to wash them again, it seems as though when I am in a state that permits me to 'feed' or pour out I expect not to be dirtied again. I learn and re-learn that walking out my relationship with Him was not a one time commitment at an altar with a little prayer. I didn't just need Him to clean up my mess one time, but I need Him to clean up my mess every day, several messes several times a day. What Jesus did on the cross WAS a one time deal that completed all things in Himself. Does that mean I'll never need to be washed in His blood again? No, it means that I'm a mess, a sink full of dirty dishes over and over again and I can rest in the fact that my house keeper is on His way, never altering or faltering. Guaranteed that every time I open the door to Him He will come in and clean up the mess I am.