“All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again.”

Ecclesiastes 1:7

My least favorite part of the house is the kitchen sink. I hate my kitchen sink. No matter what I do—it is always full of dishes. Packed full. Stacked. Soaking to get the concrete loose enough to scrape off. Precariously balanced to keep Mount Dishimenjaro from crashing down into a heaping pile of broken pieces. The sink is the ultimate place of futility in our house of 8. No matter how much effort and energy I put in, more dishes are waiting right around the corner. It. Never. Ends.

For Deanna, I think it is the washing machine. The laundry is unending. Do you know the feeling?

The preacher from the book of Ecclesiastes speaks into the depths of our life experience. Life is filled with toil. The waters flow, but they never fill the sea. In other words, do you ever get ahead? Life is filled with futile energy poured out, only to return to the same task again and again. It is running on a treadmill and never getting ahead. Have you ever thrown your hands up and cried out in frustration. Do you ever wonder if the things you do will even be noticed? Is there an end to this task? 

Or maybe the question that echos between your ears is, “Will this make a difference?” Or “does this even matter?’ I know my heart sings this tune whenever I step up to my sink. Of course I know that if I don’t work at climbing the summit of Dishimenjaro than it will only grow by tomorrow. And soon I’ll be washing a spoon just so I can eat some cereal in the morning. In so many ways, the preacher of Ecclesiastes tells us that our effort and energy don’t amount to a hill of beans. They don’t move the needle, so why bother? Are you glad you opened your email this morning? Such an uplifting message today, right?

Just two verse later than today’s verse, this preacher tells us that there is nothing new under the sun. It’s all be said before. It’s all be done before.  “What’s the point?” In so many words we hear the echo of this book—it’s all meaningless.

I’ve certainly felt this at times in my life. Both professionally and personally. I feel it when, as a diabetic, my sugar numbers don’t go down the way I’d like—especially after a really good season of eating healthy. I feel it in a small way every time I ponder if I should use affect or effect. I encounter these sentiments when I look at the political landscape of our country—not just in Washington DC, but in how we respond to our brothers and sisters who sit on the opposite side of the aisle. It is my emotional response in the aftermath of being overwhelmed. My hunch is you’ve felt it too. You’ve encountered those moments when you are ready to throw in the towel, wring your hands of a situation, or drop everything and move away to leave the mess behind. 

It seems like everything is extra these days. What use to be simple for me has become complex and hard. I took my kids to the doctor’s office on three different occasions last month. I only had to be there once. The other two times were miscommunications on my part and theirs. It was no body’s fault. But, it was extra. Have you been there? 

What used to be the remedial tasks of the day have become burdensome chores that take time, effort, and energy. I don’t have extra energy. Do you? If you do, I’ve got some dishes for you…

“All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full…” An endless cycle. An uncompletable task. They are ever before you in this life.

Do you want to hear the Good News? God is faithful through it all. None of it depends on you. None of it. The faithful One has already accomplished everything. It doesn’t depend on you. God’s story will reach its fulfillment—and it’s not your responsibility. It’s His. It always has been. And always will be. You are invited to join the work and partner with the Lord. But you are never left unsupervised. The weight of the world never rests on your shoulders—even though we take it on. His yoke is easy. His burden is light. He carries it so you don’t have to.

Brother Lawrence was a monk in France in the 17th century. He entered the monastery following a conversion experience when he was 18. He spent the rest of his years in the kitchen—responsible for cooking and cleaning every day for the rest of his life. So many of his daily tasks were mundane, remedial, and unending. And yet, brother Lawerence approached these tasks with a depth of faithfulness that has created a powerful legacy that still has an impact 4 centuries later.

What was His secret? Practicing the presence of God. That’s the book that he wrote. It distills the faithful life down to the simple (but really hard) practice of seeing Jesus in every task you do. It is imagining that your serving a meal and doing the dishes is done for the Messiah himself. As brother Lawerence picked up straw off the floor, his heart’s posture was to do it for the love of God.

Jesus is closer than you think—so continuously practice at being in His presence. Because you are! Again, simple, but really hard to do consistently.

There are so many other lessons that this 17th century monk can teach us. However, I think the simplicity of his life is why it is so beautiful. Today’s world is enamored with flashy and grand gestures and accomplishments. There is an ever present push for productivity and coming up with the next big thing. People want to make a splash; move the needle; and make a difference for the world. These aren’t bad ambitions in and of themselves. But they don’t do the dishes—and those dishes won’t do themselves.

The life of faith embraces the mundane. It leans into the futility and the relentless tasks of this life. And, like Brother Lawrence, we open ourselves to a deeper truth as we lean into these unending nuisances of life. Seeing Jesus and serving him in the big ways is far more impactful when we serve him in the small, meaningless ways as well. In fact, it is the small and insignificant ways you serve Jesus that are not so small and are far from meaningless.  

Do the dishes today, or any other chore that regularly frustrates you. But, do it as you practice the presence of God. That is, imagine Jesus is sitting at the table, chatting with you, as you clean up his dinner plate.