Daily Grind and Glory

This morning I awoke at my usual hour: 6:15. I dragged myself out of bed, made some strong coffee, showered, stared at the wall (a very important ritual), and made a decision to skip the typical hair routine and let it frizz.

Then I got a call from my boss saying I should come into work late because of the snow.

Hooray! Snow day!

I had an extra hour and a half to do whatever I wanted. I could climb back in bed, make more coffee, make up a dance to an Imogen Heap song, finish that movie I started last week, make some headway in reading my Jane Austen novel, floss, make more coffee, whatever. After the initial enthusiasm subsided, I set to work: folding my laundry, updating my weekly calendar, and catching up on emails. Lame, I know. But sometimes that's life. Sometimes it's full of cheese.

In the midst of all of this, I flipped through my journal from my trip to the Dominican Republic I took in January, searching for an email address. And I came across a mostly blank page -- except for a single question I had scribbled down in a hurry during one of the sessions at the conference. The conference was on topics like women in the church, singleness, and marriage. Reading it again, I realize that it's possibly one of the most compelling questions I have been asked this whole year (which, I might add, is already 2/12 of the way over.... or, simplified, 1/6. Ah, thank you, GRE practice math tests).

The question is, do my daily choices reflect a preoccupation with my own vanity or with God's glory?

Well, I'm pretty aware that I can be vain as a peacock. But my vanity isn't always rooted in self-assurance, and is instead typically deeply founded in my insecurity, which for the most part is due to the fact that I have this illness called sin. The question I would have to ask myself next is, what does it mean to be preoccupied with God's glory? What does it look like in my own life to ascribe glory to God -- in everything? I would suppose that since, naturally, my own dark heart keeps me focused inward, it would take some acute awareness on my part to glorify God. So is it possible to be profoundly aware of my sin and sorrow and yet, at the same time, preoccupied with God's glory?

C.S. Lewis says, "As long as this deliberate refusal to understand things from above, even where such understanding is possible, continues, it is idle to talk of any final victory over materialism."

Is my preoccupation with God's glory dependent on my understanding of things above? I guess it only makes sense. To seek someone's glory means to understand the things they appreciate, enjoy, love. If we are satisfied with having some sketchy ideas about who God is, my guess is that we can't really be preoccupied with God's glory. Not to say that God can't glorify himself even through our foolishness.

I'm foolish as soon as I wake up in the morning. My mind sets to work thinking of all the things I can do to serve myself. How can I make my day work well for me? How can I convince people that I'm pretty great? What mask can I put on today to hide the guilty stains that lurk underneath this clean-cut exterior?

Now, making coffee is great. I think God wants us to enjoy coffee, because it tastes good, and good things come from God. God is good, coffee is good. They go hand in hand, right? While I'm enjoying these temporal things, I can also understand that these things come from God, and it should be my joy to set my hope on the Giver and not the riches themselves.

Thank God that He can bring glory to Himself even in our daily routines. It doesn't have to be through some big event. And thank God that my ability to focus on things eternal is not my final hope. Christ pours his grace out on me daily; this is my final hope.