Tonight at work, I was scrubbing what I have to scrub and cleaning up after people… all of whom treat me as a piece of furniture. Sometimes they run into me. I was not happy about the fact and wondered, what gives them the right to be above me? I know, I am being paid for this- but they could at least thank me, or smile, or something.
Then the still small voice found me. I never realized before how His voice is like the wind “that bloweth where it listeth.” This reached me softly, echoing into my heart- “He came not be served, but to serve.” He served, and that is enough payment to be a drudge for the rest of my life. I, the servant, am not greater than my Master.
For a person like me who enjoys studying personalities & psychology like issues, a college campus with thousands of people has a lot of potential. Often I laugh at what I see… they are just away from home, but living it up and determined and putting up facades. Sometimes I feel sorry for them- there is something pathetic in putting so many kids in one spot. That’s what they are, really… in spite of their exaggerated freedom, they are just kids who have just been let loose on the jungle gym. Though no two are alike, they all have a sense of restlessness. They know what they want and are afraid they will never get it, but are working so hard for their dreams.
Sometimes I get the feeling that college is a game, especially when I’m at work. I restock cups, clean up stuff, and run back and forth all so that the little students can play their giant campus wide game… let’s see who can be the best dressed with the most expensive and varied collection of accessories. Let’s see who can impress the most people with their conversation and their past life. Whoever graduates with the most facebook friends and the hunkiest fiancé wins.
Most often, I don’t feel like I’m even a part of the game. I’m not rich or pretty enough to even enter. I just rush from classes to work to bed, and back again… sweating my way to a degree, because God wants me to. Even my art doesn’t enter the competition here- if I prayed to be humbled, God certainly answered.
And then I remember that I am not here for myself. Dear God, how often I forget! I am here to learn how to make art for God, not to make a million facebook friends and impress my peers. It’s like the picture I have posted by my bunk that says, “no one and nothing can make me truly happy apart from God.” True words.