This morning I was awakened a few minutes after 4:00 by a knocking/banging noise. It took me only a moment to know what the noise was–it was our cat, Raindrop, trying to open the door of the half bath attached to our bedroom. This half bath has a pocket door that connects to the laundry area, which then connects to the landing of the stairs that go down to the basement. Since the pocket door does not close tightly and has some “wiggle room” on its track, Raindrop can push on it with her paws and create a knocking/banging noise, but she cannot open it. She is typically known to do this on Saturday mornings when she thinks we have stayed in bed too late for her liking (and thus delayed her breakfast). We close all of the bedroom doors at night so that Raindrop cannot get into the rooms, but she has free reign of the house otherwise. But I had never known her to do it in the middle of the night.

So, once I realized what the noise was I also sensed that my wife was awake. I said, “Is that the cat?” And she replied, “Yes, and she’s been at it for a while.” Now, my wife is usually a lighter sleeper than I am. I think God gives mothers the ability to hear little noises in the night so that they can hear their children. So she had obviously heard this noise before I had, and I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was irritated by it, but apparently she had not been irritated enough to wake me up to deal with it or to get out of bed and tell the cat to knock it off. But, when snapping my fingers was not enough to make the cat stopped I decided to get up and shoo her on her way. From my side of the bed it is a matter of two steps into the bathroom. So I stepped in and turned the light on. Imagine my surprise when I then saw that the cat was in the bathroom, and she was banging on the door to try to get out. She must have been under our bed (one of her favorite hideouts) when we closed the bedroom door.

I quickly slid the door open, and she promptly ran out. I then decided to use the bathroom myself. I suddenly found myself laughing out loud at the irony of a cat trying her best to get out of a bathroom…so that, in all likelihood, she could go to the bathroom! Here she was inches away from a toilet putting all of her effort into getting out so she could go use a litter box. Now, our cat is not trained to use a toilet, so that obviously was not really an option for her, but it got me to thinking. How often do we try and try and try to get to something we think we want when a much better option is right there? (Seriously, this is how my mind works at four in the morning). Allow me a bit of literary license here and think about this with me: haven’t you ever put all of your effort into trying to open a door–which you have no hope of opening–just to get to an inferior goal to one that may well be much closer at hand but “off of your radar”? I wonder how many times God looks down at us and laughs, thinking (figuratively, of course), “There’s a toilet right there! Forget the litter box!”

There is another application, too. The cat, based on my wife’s report, had been trying for quite some time to get that door to open, even though considerable past experience should have taught her that she would not be able to get it open no matter how hard or long she tried. Yet the person who could open the door–in this case, me–was only a few feet away. The door from the bathroom into the bedroom was not closed–and the cat had to have known that, since she had to have gone through it to get into the bathroom (because I know she was not in the bathroom when I brushed my teeth before going to bed). Had she simply gone back through the door and jumped on the bed she likely would have woken me up. Or she could have meowed. Either way, once I had known she was in the bedroom I would promptly have gotten out of bed to put her out the door. But no, she persisted in trying to do it on her own, stopping only once I entered the bathroom after the noise she was making woke me up. And I think we are often like that, too. We continue to try to solve things on our own or do things our way, even when past experience should have taught us that it was not likely to work, when the One who could open all the doors and knows the answer to all of the problems is close by, just waiting for us to ask Him for help and direction.

So, next time you have a problem that needs solving, just remember my cat stuck in the bathroom…and maybe laugh to yourself before stopping to ask God for help.

At Sunshine Bible Academy each student participates in a “gratis” program. Gratis, of course, means “free,” but through this program students have areas which they are responsible for helping to keep the school neat and clean. Some students clean classrooms, some take out trash, some help in the kitchen and the scullery, others clean staff offices. One of the juniors is responsible for cleaning several staff offices, including mine.

Initially, I’ll admit, this took me some getting used to. I have never had someone regularly clean my office for me before. Once in a while someone might take the trash out for me if all of the trash was being emptied, but as often as not I would do that myself. I usually vacuumed my own floor, and (eventually) did my own dusting. (Actually, my wife has been known to dust my office for me on occasion, too). But now, at least twice a week, Shanna comes into my office to clean. Some days she just takes the trash out, but sometimes she will dust, sweep or mop, too.

When the day came that she was ready to mop for the first time Shanna asked me, as politely as possible, “Can you please leave so that I can mop?” If I stayed at my desk she could not clean everything properly–she would not have been able to get under my desk, for example, and even behind my desk it would have been inconvenient to work around me. I have joked with Shanna that she is the only person in the whole school who can kick the superintendent out of his own office. Of course, I could have said no, and refused to leave, but by doing so I would have prevented a thorough cleaning–meaning there would still have been some “mess” in my office. In fact, that mess probably would have been even more noticeable because everything else would have been so clean.

I recently realized that this is a perfect metaphor for what Christ wants to do in my life–and yours. Through the Holy Spirit, He wants to clean out the dirt and dust and trash in my life and make me clean. In order to do that completely, though, He asks me to get out of the way. To give up my claim to my life and let Him do what need to be done. Quietly, He asks me to “please leave.” Just like with my office, I could choose to stay. As amazing as it is, I have the power–as do you–to tell Almighty God, “No, I’m not budging. You can clean over there if you want to, and it’s fine to take the trash out, but I’m keeping this drawer and this area here just the way it is. Don’t touch it.”

When Shanna asks me to leave my office it is so that she can clean completely. If I refuse to go, she will still clean, but her job will be incomplete. Truth be told, though, most of what she will not be able to clean will not be visible to anyone else, because it will be behind and underneath my desk. Similarly, I often allow the Holy Spirit free access to those parts of my life that everyone else will see because I don’t want them to see my dirt and dust. I want them to see me shiny and polished. I kinda like to keep the area under my desk to myself, though. After all, no one is going to see it, and I’m just not sure I’m ready to yield that part of my life to the Lord yet.

Just as Shanna would not physically evict me from my office, the Holy Spirit will probably let me keep that dirt and dust in my life for a while. If I am in a right relationship with the Lord, though, I won’t have peace about it. I will want to get out of the way and let Him do a thorough cleaning.

Also like my office, though, the dirt, dust and trash of life will accumulate again after a while. It isn’t a one-time cleaning. It needs to be done regularly in order to keep it clean. And just like I could agree to leave sometimes when Shanna asks me to, and say no other times, I might yield to the Spirit one time, and hold my ground the next. It’s a day by day, moment by moment decision. What is guaranteed is that the Spirit will be back soon, saying “please leave.” The question is how I will respond.

Today I accompanied a group of eighth graders on another service project. This time we went to help an area rancher whose wife recently suffered serious injuries to her left arm after getting it caught in a combine. The work that we did was pretty simple, really. First, we went around to the various hay fields to pick up twine that had snapped off of last year’s round bales when they were moved from the fields to the house. Apparently this twine would get all wrapped up in the rake when the field is harvested next year if it was not picked up. After lunch we helped clean “the shop,” which included putting things away and sweeping the floor.

As I was sweeping the shop floor, pushing piles of dirt and trash into larger piles, I was reminded of a story my friend Mark Snodgrass likes to tell about the time he and I “met.” Truth be told we had met a few days earlier in terms of formal introductions, as we were both new on staff at a children’s home in Virginia. But the first time we spent any time together was mopping the floor of the gymnasium in preparation for the organization’s 40th anniversary celebration coming up fast. Mark likes the story because it illustrates perfectly the fact that there should be no job that is beneath anyone. Mark came to the children’s home with an impressive resume that included a couple of graduate degrees and considerable experience in the U.S. Army, as a city manager, and as an executive for the Boy Scouts. My resume was much less impressive, but I was Mark’s “boss,” in that he and his wife were hired to be houseparents and I was hired to be the Assistant Program Director. Just over a year later I would be the Program Director and Mark would become the Assistant Program Director.

Fast forward a few more years and I was now the Executive Director of that organization. Mark had left and was serving about 45 minutes away as a pastor of a small church. One day as I was sitting in my office my friend Carl Etheridge came in. When Mark left to pastor the church, Carl became the Program Director. Carl told me that someone on our staff (who shall remain nameless in order to protect the guilty) had balked at a task he had been asked to do, saying that he was too highly educated to do something so menial. Carl and I shared our mutual disgust for this kind of attitude, but I also thought immediately of Mark–who was a mutual friend of Carl and me. I told Carl that Mark would get a kick out of the incident, and told him that Mark would immediately recall the story of our experience mopping the gym floor. So I put Mark on speaker phone and called him. I got the reaction I expected.

That incident, however, led to what I think may be the only time I can recall in what has now been ten years of holding the top executive position at a few Christian ministries where I told an entire staff of people in no uncertain terms that as long as I was in the position I was in there would be no room on our staff for that kind of attitude and that should something like that ever again come to my attention the guilty party would be dismissed immediately.

Mark and Carl were both promoted from within at the children’s home. Both of them are older than me (Mark could be my father, Carl could almost be my grandfather) and both of them had considerably more life experience than I did, but I did not promote them for those reasons. I promoted them primarily because I knew that they would lead by example–that they would never ask anyone else to do something that they had not done or would not be willing to do themselves. Mark and I mopping the gym floor is one of many examples I could give. I could tell a similar story about Carl and I stripping and waxing the dining hall floor over spring break one year.

I don’t recall anyone ever point-blank telling me that I needed to be a servant leader, someone who leads others by my example. I don’t recall ever making a conscious decision that that is the kind of leader I would be. But I do know that the people in my life who have had the strongest influence on me have been those kinds of people. I can remember, for example, the two government/economics teachers in my high school. Every other teacher who got food from the line in the cafeteria would go to the front of the line, get their food and disappear into the teacher’s lounge. Mr. Giga and Mr. Kolbe, though, would stand in line with the students and talk to those in line around them. Something that simple made an incredible impression on me, and on many other students at OHS too, I am sure.

Now, I would be less than honest if I did not admit that it I did wonder today while sweeping that shop floor if I was really making the best use of my time. After all, like Mark when we were mopping the gym, I have several graduate degrees now, and I have “important responsibilities.” I mean, I have more letters that come after my last name than I have in my last name if I want to list my degrees. But, thankfully, that thought did not last long. I realized that what I was doing was important, because I was helping someone who had a need, I was doing it alongside some really cool kids, and I was leading by example.

My point here is not to pat myself on the back. I’m not big on tooting my own horn, quite frankly. But I am troubled by the fact that servant leadership is so unusual. The rancher we were helping today made a comment as we were preparing to leave that he never knew superintendents were normal people. He said he couldn’t get over the fact that, “the Superintendent of Sunshine Bible Academy is sweeping the dirt on my floor.” Did that make me feel good? Sure. But please believe me when I tell you that more than anything else it makes me sad. I know the gentleman who held this position before me, and I am confident that this rancher did not mean to disparage him in any way. The truth is, though, this idea has come to my attention before. At the last school I was at I received all manner of astonished looks and comments when I helped take out the garbage or sweep the cafeteria floor. At the children’s home it was, at least initially, considered unheard of that the Executive Director would be helping to weed eat or trim hedges or paint walls.

The Gospels are full of examples of Jesus leading by example and serving others. I suspect He would have no qualms about sweeping dirt, taking out trash, mowing grass, washing dishes…whatever needs to be done. Here’s my challenge to you and me…why is it so unusual for someone in a position of leadership to do such things now?

Today I accompanied a number of students from Sunshine Bible Academy to a local ranch. The 9th through 11th graders are scattered around the state right now for SBA’s annual Servant Days, so some of the younger students and their teachers thought that it would be a good idea for them to get involved in some kind of service project, too. The rancher we went to help had already harvested his corn, but there was–as I assume there always is–corn left behind after the harvest, and this rancher wanted to collect that corn to feed to his livestock. (Disclaimer: I am not a farmer, have no experience with farming, and may use some terminology incorrectly in the process of this entry. Your understanding is appreciated).

So, each older student had a five gallon bucket and was accompanied by a younger student as they walked through rows of harvested corn looking for corn that had been left behind. They would pick up the corn, shuck it, drop it in the bucket and eventually, when the bucket got full, empty it into the bed of one of the 4-wheel farm vehicles in the field. (I got to drive a John Deere Gator. And that, believe it or not, I had done before. But this one was completely enclosed–a huge benefit with the South Dakota wind!)

As I was helping one set of students collect corn I could not help but think of the biblical account of Ruth gleaning in Boaz’s field. I asked the younger student if she remembered that biblical story, and, when she said she did, told her that Ruth did something very much like what were doing. After Boaz’s workers had harvested the wheat, Ruth went behind them and gathered wheat that had been left behind. She would then take it home so that she and Naomi would have something to eat. The student seemed to catch the similarity, and also added, “But I don’t think we are taking the corn home.” You have to love the literal mindedness of so many elementary students (especially when the student in question happens to be your daughter!)

Now, I am not sharing this to pat myself on the back, but to point out how we are called to take advantage of teachable moments when they arise. We read in Deuteronomy that parents have the responsibility to teach their children about the Lord “when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise” (Deuteronomy 6:7, ESV). Not that we will be gleaning corn every day, or find ourselves in situations that so clearly correlate to Bible stories–but that is not the point, nor is it necessary. It should be possible to identify teachable moments every day. Of course, before we can identify them and use them to teach biblical truth, something else has to happen. Before we can teach about the Lord when we sit in our house, walk by the way, lie down or rise, we must be thinking about the Lord when we sit in our house, walk by the way, lie down or rise.

Even when we are not consciously and intentionally thinking about the Lord as we go about our daily activities, if we are in a right relationship with Him we will find that He will teach us things, reinforce biblical truths and call to mind lessons we have learned and things He has done as we go along our merry way. Sharing the story of Ruth with my daughter today is but one example of the things that I thought about while I was in that corn field. After a while, I was not right with my daughter and Staci (the 8th grader she had buddied with) any longer. I found myself walking through a harvested row by myself looking for stray ears of corn. As I did so, another biblical story came to mind–that of the prodigal son.

I am sure you are familiar with the story. After wasting his inheritance on “riotous living” the young man found himself employed to feed pigs. He was in such dire straits that he found himself longing after the pig slop he was dishing out to the hogs. This came to mind because I was thinking about the fact that I was collecting corn that would be fed to livestock. In the state that corn was in, I would not eat it. Yet, how often have I been guilty of wasting my time, talents and treasure on the things the world has to offer–and even found myself longing after the slop that the world has in abundance–when my Father has the very best and He would love for me to come back to Him to partake of it.

One other thing came to mind as I was gleaning corn today. As I would pick up ears of corn I would remove the shucks and drop it to the ground. Only, thanks to the strong South Dakota wind, it rarely fell straight to the ground. It would blow away. The corn shucks are thin, light and weak, and when confronted with a gusting wind they no choice but to go wherever the wind blew it. And quite frankly, I didn’t care where it went, because it has no value. It was worthless to me, and to the rancher I was helping. That reminded me to the fact that my works on this earth will someday be separated like wheat from the chaff. I know that wheat and chaff and corn and shucks are not exactly the same thing (give me some credit!), but I think the point is the same. I have seen threshing floors and even learned about the various ways that wheat and chaff was separated during colonial times. One way that I saw demonstrated at George Washington’s Mount Vernon was to lay the harvested wheat on a blanket, beat it with an implement designed for the purpose, and then, with people at each corner, lift the blanket, and toss the contents into the air. The wheat is heavy enough that it would fall back down to the blanket (just like the corn would fall to the ground if I dropped it). The chaff, however, is light, and it would be blown away by the wind–just like the corn shucks. Someday all of the worthless things that I do will be blown away too. Or burned in the fire.

The Bible is full of agricultural metaphors for spiritual lessons. As a new resident of a state with lots of agriculture, I suspect I may find myself picking up on many more reminders of Bible lessons. But working on a ranch or living in the country is not a requirement for finding opportunities to be reminded of biblical truth in our everyday lives. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, be open to the still, small voice of God. You will find plenty of teachable moments–when He will teach you something, and when you can teach others.