god’s dream for us is revolution

“Good morning, Revolution: You’re the very best friend I ever had. We gonna pal around together from now on.”

-Langston Hughes

 

Some things have changed a lot since Langston Hughes wrote those words, but we are still awaiting the deep work of revolution to take its place in our world and in our lives.

We need some miracles.

Christianity, at its roots, offers us the opportunity to live beyond the comfortable and the usual in our ordinary lives. Our faith is a radical, revolutionary kind of love that waves palm branches one week and then watches God sacrifice Himself for us the next. Jesus’ suffering is supposed to set us free from our broken ways of living for only ourselves.

Which brings me to dirty dishes.

My children are not so good with dirty dishes.

I lined these children up last week and had a good old-fashioned revival around the kitchen island. I pointed to the crumbs all over the place, the dishes that were stacked in the sink because they didn’t fit in the dishwasher, and the menagerie of pantry items and trash strewn about the area.

I lifted my eyes to the heavens and let my faith rise on wings of eagles.

“My dream is not that you would simply ‘do your chore’ when you are responsible for dishes. My dream is that you would do whatever is necessary to make this kitchen clean.”

They nodded. They cleaned. They went to bed.

The next night my oldest was scrubbing all the things: dishes, counters, cooking utensils. He had become some sort of dish-doing savant.

“Thank you so much for working so hard, buddy.”

“No problem. I’m just doing what you asked us to do.”

WHAT EVEN ARE THESE WORDS? How have I won the lottery in life without buying a ticket? I am not the mom whose kids just do what she asks. I am the mom who must endure all the clueless unhelpfulness, scrub the stains, wipe the mess, bleach the nastiness, and then weep and mourn that it never ends.

My son’s words prove that revolution does not begin with results; it begins with a heart set on doing what is right, no matter the pain or cost.

Truth be told, my son’s revolutionary moment is evidence that the rhythm of live has shifted a little around our house. Morgan and I have added grad school classes and a book to write to our usual life responsibilities. The kids have had to grow a little braver and bolder in the area of general responsibility, because Mom and Dad haven’t been able to do as much as usual.

I had been afraid that this ridiculously busy season would negatively affect our kids, but I was wrong entirely. They are thriving, growing closer to us and each other.

I overheard my boys complimenting each other the other day. SHUT THE FRONT DOOR, BOYS. They have even worked out a way to share a precious book without the need to shed one another’s blood in the negotiating process. Our family unit has not degenerated into a suburban Lord of the Flies while I’m typing away on my computer and they’re upstairs arguing and negotiating and figuring life out.

Miracles will happen, one child of God at a time, I suppose.

But staring into the abyss of my own strung-out, overwhelmed, over-scheduled soul, I wonder where my miracle will come from. The chaos of our schedule is daunting. I’m trying to be the wife, mom, and minister I am called to be. I have failed five times today. Tomorrow will probably be more of the same.

I’m not so good at meeting the expectations on my life- my own and everyone else’s.

God has called me in line, and told me it’s time for my own revival with my Father in heaven. He’s looked me straight in the eye and given me a speech.

“My dream is that you would not just do all the things I’ve asked you to do. My dream is that you would trust that I am with you in all that I’ve asked you to do, and I am speaking into your chaos, declaring that all I see in it and in you is good.”

This simple plan should have been so easy for me to decipher, and yet, I could not discover it without Him. The absence of clarity does not mean the absence of God’s sovereign grace for us. The presence of our own insecurity does not mean God’s favor and delight in us are not lavished from the throne upon our souls.

He loves us.

He is with us.

He calls us His very own holy and good creation.

Miracles will happen.

Let’s just do what He’s asked us to do, and pal around with revolution by offering the hardest parts of life our brave voices of change, our unconditional love of the truth, and our merciful forgiveness for all the wounds of the past. 

Revolution begins in the ordinary moments of our lives: a smile for a stranger, a clean kitchen, the choice to befriend a lonely neighbor, forgiving ourselves of our mistakes, faithfully serving coworkers, a well-timed compliment, and empathy for someone’s story that is different than our own.

Revolution begins with me and with you, and its vehicle of choice is love.

Maybe it’s true that the world has not changed enough, yet. But the curtain has not dropped on the final scene, and the grand finale of redemption is coming.

Until then, revolution is in our hands.