We’ve all had days when everything seems to go wrong in a short span of time. I’m not speaking of tragedies, but a series of first-world problems strung together to really mess with our attitudes. Welcome to my Terrible Tuesday. Nothing about this day made me want to sing, “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it” Psalm 118:24 (ESV).
It began at 1:30am when our college son’s shell-shocked voice woke me out of a deep slumber, “I’m okay, but my car is totaled.” While he stood yards away, a drunk driver had flipped onto his car. He was safe, but financial repercussions abounded.
Hours later, our oven short-circuited while I baked fifty homemade scones for a local coffee shop delivery. It wasn’t the worst thing to happen, but it was challenging for my home business.
Lastly, the finale to my terrible Tuesday: As I pounced into herculean cleaning mode preparing for my first “Moms Night Out at Jen’s” since quarantine lifted, our well water pump broke. Fifteen young moms were coming in a few hours, and with no running water, that meant no flushing toilets either. That was my reality.
Though I’m not one to be overly dramatic, I admit to raising my fist for a brief moment, “Seriously, Lord? In twelve hours, we’ve had a totaled car, an oven fiasco, and now a broken pump? All this amidst our step of faith to fix up The Becoming Cottage? Can You give me a break?”
I yelled to my brother who was trying to help outside, “We serve a God who raises people from the dead and turns water into wine. Surely, you can strike that thing in Jesus name and water will flow!”
He smirked. I prayed. No water.
I knew how much all the moms had been looking forward to gathering. As their mentor mom, I’d been waiting in expectation to create a safe space to reconnect after an exhausting mothering year for us all. Stress-wise, canceling was the wise move, and friends assured me that everyone would understand if I postponed. But in that moment, I had a choice. Even though my frazzled spirit already felt defeated, I knew that if this much opposition swirled against our evening, there was no way I could cancel. I would not stand in the way of how the Lord would move through our time together. He was up to something special, so I begged Him to take my terrible Tuesday and transform it into changed lives.
The powerful interactions that happened are too much for this article, but would you believe that while I expected fifteen women, twenty-five showed up? And not only did they show up, but they were early? Do you know how much I accomplish in the last ten minutes before my gatherings? I digress, but I share the details over on my instagram.
All evening I took mental snapshots of women laughing, crying, connecting, and even sharing with absolute strangers.The repeated theme overwhelmed me.
Chaos came in, but grace flowed out.
I don’t recommend hosting a house full of people with no water, but we must extend invitations now more than ever. Start small until open-door living becomes second nature.
As we begin to experience the fullness, richness, and joy that comes from practicing one simple life-giving invitation to another, we unleash the promises of God in ways we’d never expect.
After a year of isolation, hospitality takes a bold kind of courage, but you can do this. Pursue it with the knowledge that Christ is enough. If you feel like you can’t do it, hear Him remind you, “You’re right. You can’t. But I can.” Hospitality is where He can teach you bold new lessons about trust, humility, faith, and love. And wow, did I experience growth in both trust and humility that Tuesday!
When I replay this truth about God’s sufficiency to transform lives in spite of me, I see again that it’s not about me. I have nothing to prove. He delights to work through my imperfections. If people are blessed and impacted, it’s only because He’s gracious to take a broken, weary, and completely frazzled woman and use her desire for serving Him to point others to Jesus.
Let this truth sink deep and receive it as absolute freedom: Stop striving for the unattainable. Stop worrying about what others think of your performance. Focus solely on your One-person audience, knowing this focus will always lead you to loving others.
Throughout the evening, women hugged my neck (that alone got me emotional) and thanked me for not canceling. Over and over, they told me they’d been waiting so long for this and how it was exactly what their hearts had needed.
Sweet friends, if He can work through my terrible Tuesday when I had to slip away to pour jugs of water down a toilet (and yes, we had more crazy moments), just imagine the other miracles He can perform when we step out in faith during our ordinary, everyday lives. He unlocks the door to so many meaningful possibilities in our lives.
Kingdom adventure awaits as we shift our focus from “not on this terrible day” to “Yes, Lord, I am here for it.” God’s promises are for the taking when we choose to show up.
If I had canceled that evening, I would’ve missed out on the chance to declare, “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” It was certainly a day to rejoice and be glad because of what He had done.Leave a Comment