Sunday, June 23, 2013

Doorkeeper

I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
than dwell in the tents of wickedness. -- Psalm 84:10b
I've always wanted to be a world changer, to do something great for God. Anything less seems like a waste of time and energy.

When I was younger I went on several mission trips with dreams of becoming a missionary. Not a single salvation can be attributed to my presence there. Holding on to thoughts of helping the less fortunate, I thought about pursuing a career as a doctor. I had plans to take some classes in this field at the local vo-tech. However, I didn't meet the age requirement and was diverted to an engineering class (looking back, I'm pretty sure it was for the best).

I've gone on reading books about radical Christianity, wondering why can't we just give our all and do great things for God right here in our towns. Seems like there is just so much we could do if we just were not afraid / not selfish / more compassionate / [insert missing component here]. There's always something holding me back it seems. And so, I live in a constant state of failure.

____________________
"Better a doorkeeper..."

Last year, this phrase started playing over and over in my mind. I'm not sure why. Perhaps God was trying to tell me something. Every once in a while the words will come back: "Remember...better a doorkeeper..." These words would come to mean so much to me.

____________________
"I'm willing to serve, but on my terms."

Coming to Norman, I had my own ideas of how I would serve God. I was going to start community, get involved in church, help the less fortunate, start my writing career. These were my plans. A year later, there is no community and my church attendance is erratic at best. I did find a food pantry to help at occasionally, but none of this was how I dreamed. I still feel like I'm sitting here idling.

I wanted to change the world from my little apartment. Or at least my town. Or even just the apartment complex. Seems I can't even get to know my neighbor. My plans had fallen flat. When you get right down to it, I was trying to impress God. "Look, God, at how much I can do for you!" When we seek to impress or call out for attention, we forget who God made us to be.

____________________
"If I cannot step outside these four walls to be a blessing to people, then I will be a blessing to others from within these four walls."

I wrote the words above as I struggled with the failure of my plans. The truth is I'm not an outgoing person. I am more comfortable typing than talking. That's how God made me. It is not for me to rebel and say "Why didn't you make me like him or her. Why didn't you make me so that I could do this or that." God has given me talents--I can choose to use them or bury them as I despair over my failure to do things I was never meant to do. I can scold myself for not walking up and talking to a stranger or I can use my energy to write a note to a friend.

The problem is my pride. I want to do something that I see as great, that will earn a name for me or make me feel fulfilled, like I've done something that really mattered. And so, "Great" becomes the goal. A doorkeeper isn't good enough.

____________________
"Some days the only thing that keeps me going is knowing that I have made a difference in somebody's life."

This is the one thing I keep coming back to. I may have made a failure out of all my projects, all my schemes of greatness. But I know that I have made a difference in somebody's life. And for that it is all worth it.

That's what it means to be a doorkeeper. To live without worry of how you measure up to the standard, of how "great" your deeds will be, of how you will measure up to other believers--but simply be light. I would rather make a difference in one person's life than speak to thousands who simply nod and applaud.

Whatever you have to offer, however insignificant it may seem--give that. Don't try to give what you don't have or to be someone else. Just do what you can, day by day. Let go of pride. Be the least. Be a doorkeeper.


No comments:

Post a Comment