Jesus Around The Water Cooler

A long time ago I gave Jesus my life. I figured if he died for me the least I could do was live for him. I remember that decision feeling very satisfying at the time but years later I’m wondering if I really meant it. I mean, I gave him all of the ugly parts of my life–like some destructive habits and my short temper. I even gave him all the spiritual parts of my life, like, I started reading the Bible and going to church on Sundays and even Wednesdays.

But what about the rest?

What about the Tuesday morning while I’m stuck in traffic sipping coffee? Or what about the Thursday evening when I’m making dinner for my family? What about the ordinary, mundane, seemingly insignificant parts of my life? Did God get those? Because here’s the scary part…

The ordinary represents most of my life.

Most of my life is not a deep, dark sin or an inspiring worship service or devotional. Most of life is pretty, well, boring. What if the ordinary parts of my life could become extraordinary if I gave those over to God as well? Perhaps this is exactly what Jesus meant when he constantly went on about if you lose your life for my sake, then you’ll really find it (Matthew 10:39). What if I’m missing something very profound by assuming God has no interest in my ordinary?

‘So Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour. A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her “Will you give me a drink?…”’ – (John 4:6-14)

I enjoy this story because of the mundane nature of it all. I mean, it’s just a well. Jesus is tired and waiting on his friends to bring some food and something significant occurs. Jesus takes the ordinary of his life and creates something controversial, unexpected, and divine. His life fully belongs to the Father and it shows.

Is whether or not Jesus has my life revealed while I wait for my latte to be made, or by how high my hands are raised during Sunday’s worship?

I mean, it’s just another barista.

It’s just a job.

It’s just a movie.

It’s just money.

It’s just a date.

It’s just most of my life.

Oh, by the way, that ordinary conversation with the woman at the well turned out pretty well. Most of the town “gave their lives to Jesus” and he stayed there two more days just to celebrate. The ordinary became extraordinary. This sort of thing seemed to happen all the time around Jesus. The ordinary mattered. Life became abundant. It’s not just a well.

I’m convinced if I’ve really given Jesus my life, that tomorrow has to be more than just a Friday. It has to be more than just a commute. She has to become more than just a barista. It has to become more than just a job. What if God has something extraordinary in store?