She’s settled. Sure, her days aren’t packed full of thrilling adventures, but it’s life. Marked by complacency, she wakes up early five days a week to put on her “teacher clothes” and arrives at the school before the students do. The funny comment made by the boy in the front row made her laugh yesterday, but today the group of boys in the corner are this close to snapping her patience. The little highs and lows of the day are just subtle enough to lull her into a rhythm. Cyclic monotony. She’s not unhappy. She’s mature enough to understand that this is just the way her life is going to run.
And then He showed up.
He’s the most radical creature she’s seen. Just one look at Him brings color into her grey world. And His invitation is simple, yet compelling: Follow me.
“She looked out of the window and saw the divine revellers singing up the street and a stab of joy went through her heart. Aslan stopped right under the window and looked up at her. ‘Oh, don’t, don’t,’ she said. ‘I’d love to. But I mustn’t. I must stick to my work.’…’Now, Dear Heart,’ said Aslan to the Mistress; and she jumped down and joined them.”
This scene that C.S. Lewis depicts in Prince Caspian captured my special attention as I reread the Narnia series over these past few months. I hadn’t picked up on it before. Maybe I noticed it this time because I’m a teacher now. Or maybe, more generally, it’s because I desire the same sort of emergence from the ordinary that she experienced. How I sometimes wish I could be swept away from normalcy to join Aslan’s throng where exciting surprises await every day. Alas, shirking responsibility, the ones that bore and drain us, is not an option. But following Him is.
Following Jesus isn’t glamorous. Somehow despite Jesus’ claim that following Him means denying myself (Luke 9:23), my mind still seems to hyper-romanticize discipleship. I’m deceived to believe that “mountaintop experiences” are the norm. Profound epiphanies from Scripture. Deeply intimate spiritual moments. Daring new adventures in regards to my career or missions. Even “carrying my cross” must look like dramatic acts of unselfishness.
And here I am, washing yet another load of whites. Trying to find another way to bake chicken. Teaching another Bible lesson to a group of kids with mostly blank stares, while trying to keep little Bobby from cutting his hair with his scissors (true story, last week, not Bobby though).
Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly thankful for clothes to wear, food to eat, and a job that I honestly love most days. But sometimes it all just feels like…cyclic monotony. I’m not unhappy. I’m mature enough to understand that this is just the way my life is going to run.
And then He shows up.
The very presence of Jesus brings purpose. What if we actually took this to heart? Perhaps then we could actually be satisfied in the here and now as opposed to pining for fulfillment in the next level (in your family, work, living situation, etc.). Perhaps then we wouldn’t feel that twinge of envy when your friend announces that she’s taking a trip out of the country for the umpteenth time this year. Perhaps then we don’t have to despair when our lives aren’t turning out quite like we’d hoped.
When I’m aware of His presence, I’m more attuned to the “stabs of joy,” as Lewis puts it. I can receive each small moment of bliss with gratitude, knowing that it is a gift from my good Father. For those who trust in Christ, His Spirit is always near, and “in His presence there is fullness of joy” (Psalm 16:11). I need not look elsewhere.
Don’t miss an opportunity to follow Him just because today is ordinary, friend. Follow anyway. Be obedient in the small things. Stay faithful. And ultimately, find His grace waiting for you in the mundane.
Cultivate. 