At church yesterday, the pastor talked about service. He spoke about all service being equal in the eyes of God. Cleaning the bathrooms is the same as preaching to millions if both are done with the right heart and motives. Service is service and God does not designate one as greater than the other. There certainly are those that appear more glamorous and important to us, but glamorous isn’t necessarily valuable and important isn’t necessarily effective.
So, now I’m wondering if my desire to do more and be more is just my own insecurity surfacing once again. I’ve realized recently that I have a high need to see the results of my work to feel that my effort has been worthwhile. For the most part, results means others seeing what I have done and recognizing it. My attitude has been, “If I spend hours or days working on something and no one sees it or is affected by it, what’s the point of doing it in the first place?” I guess it comes down to a need for external validation.
I know that there are those who serve doing what many would consider menial tasks, but for them the act of serving itself is all the reward they need. I wonder if my need to see the results of the work I do is a character flaw that I need to work on or just a function of the gifts and talents that I’ve been given. In other words, how effective is a painter who paints and then hides the canvases in his attic? What good can a musician do if he never plays his music for others? What use is a writer whose words are never seen? It’s something I’ll have to think and pray about.
Any words of wisdom?
Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.
Showing posts with label discipline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discipline. Show all posts
Monday, March 10, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Pancakes!
I went to lunch the other day at a local diner. Shortly after I ordered my food, a boy, about nine or ten years old was seated near me with his mother and grandmother. He picked up the menu and announced, “I want pancakes!”
“We came here for shakes, not pancakes,” his mother said from behind her menu.
“I want pancakes! I want pancakes!” This kid had whining down to an art. His voice pierced through the air and made me cringe and grit my teeth.
“No. If you are going to have food, I don’t want you to have all that sugar.” What? They came for shakes, but she didn’t want him to have sugar?
“I’m going to have pancakes! I want pancakes! I want pancakes! I WANT PANCAKES!” He really seemed to believe that if he asked frequent enough and loud enough his mother would relent and let him have the PANCAKES! he so desired.
“Stop it! Stop! You aren’t having pancakes,” the harried mother hissed. The boy leaned across the table and yelled in her face . . . You guessed it, “I WANT PANCAKES!” I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if I had ever dared to try that with my mom. There would have been no pancakes. There would have been no shake and probably no dinner. I may even have had to wait in the car while everyone else ate their lunch.
The waiter returned at the end of this tirade. After some conversation, the mother convinced the boy to get a root beer float, since they didn’t have an Oreo cookie shake. About this time, I finished my lunch, paid for my food and headed back to work, grateful to leave.
I really felt bad for that mother. Her son caused such a scene in the restaurant and it was very obvious that she was embarrassed. I can’t imagine, though, that this was an unusual occurrence. I wonder how many times he had done this very thing in other places. I also wonder how often it gets him what he wants.
Can you imagine how this same kid will be in, oh, say, six or seven years?
“I want this car. Mom, buy me that Mustang! I want that car! GIVE ME THAT CAR!”
How about in 15 years . . .
“I want a raise! I deserve a raise! I want more money! Give me a raise!”
He’s in for a rude awakening, and if it doesn’t come from his mom in the very near future, it will be very painful when he gets out into the world and discovers that whining doesn‘t get you whatever you want. For his sake, I hope it happens sooner rather than later.
He who ignores discipline comes to poverty and shame, but whoever heeds correction is honored.
“We came here for shakes, not pancakes,” his mother said from behind her menu.
“I want pancakes! I want pancakes!” This kid had whining down to an art. His voice pierced through the air and made me cringe and grit my teeth.
“No. If you are going to have food, I don’t want you to have all that sugar.” What? They came for shakes, but she didn’t want him to have sugar?
“I’m going to have pancakes! I want pancakes! I want pancakes! I WANT PANCAKES!” He really seemed to believe that if he asked frequent enough and loud enough his mother would relent and let him have the PANCAKES! he so desired.
“Stop it! Stop! You aren’t having pancakes,” the harried mother hissed. The boy leaned across the table and yelled in her face . . . You guessed it, “I WANT PANCAKES!” I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if I had ever dared to try that with my mom. There would have been no pancakes. There would have been no shake and probably no dinner. I may even have had to wait in the car while everyone else ate their lunch.
The waiter returned at the end of this tirade. After some conversation, the mother convinced the boy to get a root beer float, since they didn’t have an Oreo cookie shake. About this time, I finished my lunch, paid for my food and headed back to work, grateful to leave.
I really felt bad for that mother. Her son caused such a scene in the restaurant and it was very obvious that she was embarrassed. I can’t imagine, though, that this was an unusual occurrence. I wonder how many times he had done this very thing in other places. I also wonder how often it gets him what he wants.
Can you imagine how this same kid will be in, oh, say, six or seven years?
“I want this car. Mom, buy me that Mustang! I want that car! GIVE ME THAT CAR!”
How about in 15 years . . .
“I want a raise! I deserve a raise! I want more money! Give me a raise!”
He’s in for a rude awakening, and if it doesn’t come from his mom in the very near future, it will be very painful when he gets out into the world and discovers that whining doesn‘t get you whatever you want. For his sake, I hope it happens sooner rather than later.
He who ignores discipline comes to poverty and shame, but whoever heeds correction is honored.
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