“We must make the invisible Kingdom visible in our midst.” -John Calvin
This is my daily prayer. Let your Kingdom come. Right here. Right now. May my work this day further the Kingdom of God.
The vocabulary of kingdoms and reigns and manifestations make my life calling seem like a daring act of bold bravery. It brings to mind images of knight-like armor and shining swords. Valiant missions, dangerous expeditions, tale worthy journeys. These are the connotations that come with Kingdom furthering.
But today I further the kingdom at the kitchen sink.
We want a life of adventure. We follow Christ because He promises abundant life. Abundant living, thriving, yeah – this sounds like the good life. In our heads we think that means foreign countries, miraculous encounters, and being filled with undefinable and irregular fervor every morning. But at some point we wake up and realize our days don’t look like this. Instead they look ordinary. Painfully ordinary in fact. Where is the valor, the knight’s armor, and warrior tales of Kingdom furthering?
I woke up this morning earlier then I would have liked. With the sleep in my eyes I groggily began the preparation of our breakfast and my husband’s lunch. We watched the sunrise during our quiet breakfast, and I began the morning dishes. With the plates in the dishwasher and the eggs scraped out of the skillet I headed to my room, Bible in one hand, coffee in the other. Matthew 6:10 was the verse I sat with today.
Your Kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
“This is a prayer for the Kingdom of God to become fully present: for the glory and beauty of heaven to be turned into earthly reality as well.” -N.T. Wright
Yes, Lord. Enable to bring the glory and beauty of heaven to be present in my life, in my home, in my work, in my family. Let me be apart of your Kingdom furthering. Show me how. Reveal to me your will that I might do it. Let me be apart of this work.
And quietly, like He always does, He spoke.
You are already are apart of this work.
There is a sacredness about the tasks I do daily, though I am reluctant to recognize it. They seem mundane. They couldn’t be called unique or original. Everyone can make eggs and clean the breakfast dishes. I could be getting a master’s degree or running a successful music business or traveling the world. But I’m here, in a small mountain town, doing the dishes.
And Christ calls it Kingdom furthering. He calls it His will being done. He calls it the manifestation of His heavenly work here on earth.
Because this Kingdom isn’t based on size or affluence. The efforts put forth are illogically multiplied – like five loaves of bread and two fish. Because God says whatever we do for the least of these we do for Him. And that what we do is less important than the fact that we do it in submission to the Kingship of Christ. Because God’s greatest will is that we are sanctified.
And so I stand at my kitchen sink and further the Kingdom. In a heart submitted to God I further His Kingdom by emulating His work. He brings order to our world, cosmos out of chaos. I bring order to my kitchen. In the smallest, humblest way possible I am making the beauty of heaven become present in my own home.
My feet are bare as I scrub the dishes in the morning light. Bare, because this kitchen sink – like any place that we submit our heart and work to reign of Christ – this is a holy place.