God’s provision can be humbling. As some of you know, we live on the Atlantic Ocean on Boston’s North Shore. Our rent–$150 a month–for a two bedroom garage apartment. 229 Summer St is nestled in the woods, on a hill overlooking the ocean. Below is a private beach, beyond is Cape Cod and the city of Boston. The view is stunning. But there’s a catch. In exchange for this outstanding rent, I do work on the grounds and errands for our landlords.
Yesterday I broke out the electrolux at my landlord’s request. Time to clean the two Lexus SUVs. Ironically, the Electrolux automatic is what I use to vaccum the SUVs. As I was vaccuming, I began to think about the humbling nature of this agreement–I do whatever work they want for cheap rent. I also did some of the weekly duties yesterday, like emptying all thier trash and recycling to take it down to the bottom of the driveway for pick-up. Picked up Poland Springs bottled water and sparkling water with lime and restocked their kitchen. Sometimes I wish I could just take out my own trash, vaccum my own car, and not buy my own fancy water.
But God’s desires are greater than mine. He has called me, us, to a life of humble service. Whenever he provides, humility should abound. God’s provision, I’m learning, is not only about meeting my physical needs, but also my spiritual needs. I am poor in humility. God wants to make me rich. So he provides a servant-like job in king-like grounds. I am a care-taker, not the king. All that God provides–health, finances, homes, children, respect, vocational success–should be a humbling reminder that I am brokering what is his. My family is his family. My money is his money. My success is his success. Whenever pride peaks at any flourishing in my life, may I always remember the Electrolux and vaccum any hint of hubris with repentace and faith in the gospel-providing God.
