9:57 pm, and my doorbell rings.

I was just settled into my egg chair after an evening with friends, laptop open, ready to write this post.

I look at the clock. The kitchen staff went home hours ago; my coworker and close friend wasn’t even working today, so who is here at this hour?

I decide to approach the door and peek outside.

The doorbell rang again.

I walk across the room briefly wondering why I live alone, but rationalizing that most burglars don’t ring the doorbell.

I decide it’s probably a resident, though that also doesn’t make sense this time of day, and peek through the blind.

A lady who I’ve never seen before has just begun frantically knocking.

Did she get lost and end up on this hill in the middle of nowhere?

I open the door with a bright smile as though I’m used to greeting people at this hour.

It’s then that I notice she’s wearing scrubs. Probably night staff.

Sure enough, she confirms my thought. “Hi, my name is … , I’m here for third shift…”

She trails off, seeing my kitchen table behind me, beyond that the living room with lamps and string lights creating a homey glow.

Yeah, this isn’t quite the personal care home she was expecting.

She’s here for night cleaning duty, so I could have gladly welcomed her into my house, but I know some people upstairs who might not have appreciated that… 😉

I redirected her to the front door where the staff will be waiting to welcome her to the 10:00 shift.

She apologized for disturbing me, and I assured her it’s ok. She was still horrified at her mistake so I added that I work here too, I’m just grateful that she’s willing to fill a shift for us, etc. And of course that launched the whole story because she was baffled that I live on site…

As I explained the nutshell version of why she found a staff member in a private residence in the basement of this care home, she forgot her embarrassment and replaced it with genuine surprise. I think we became friends, so that’s good.

I would have happily chatted with her longer, but considering the time, I decided I better not make her late for her shift.

And now, I’m back in my living room ready to get the thoughts into words that were actually spinning in my mind for this post.

This afternoon, I was tired after work. While spending time with God in Bible study and prayer, I was reflecting on this weariness I’ve been feeling.

Is the work that much harder? Not really.

I was on charge duty for the shift today, with a new caregiver to train on the other 2 wings, and we just had a surprise state inspection. So there were some extra details to keep track of, but really, nothing crazy happened.

I decided the main reason I’m tired is because I’ve allowed this life to become ordinary.

Nearly 8 months into my volunteer commitment, the memories of waiting for my work visa have faded just enough that I sometimes forget to be grateful I’m here.

The newness of getting to know these lonely, forgotten individuals has ebbed into an endless pattern of changing bedding, giving showers, brushing hair, serving meals, and doing laundry.

Yet whenever I pause to stand in awe of the simple sacredness of this work, I am renewed with energy to keep walking the halls with joy in my step.

Jesus said that a disciple who gives a cup of cold water shall not lose his reward.

How often in a day am I literally asked for a cup of water?

Or a snack. For help making the bed or putting socks on.

And Jesus sees this as important? How can I then forget to view this work as holy?

It’s true, it’s not attractive by the world’s standards.

The work I do isn’t measurable like schoolteaching was. We’re not building for the future here, there’s no progress intervals, and yet I know the work has purpose.

God called me here to care for those who are otherwise uncared for. Every one of them is made in His image just like I am.

And God has asked me, for this season, to be His hands and feet in loving them.

To tenderly wash each weathered face and watch it crease into a smile.

To gently brush gray hair until it’s soft, and then to neatly comb it.

(and yes, to carry barf bags to the dumpster and still feel my heart break with pity when I hear a sad voice ask, “Jackie, WHY do I have to be sick?”)

God loves to see them clean, happy, and loved.

Every little thing I do that creates that, is seen by God.

The never ending cycle of caregiving may seem wearying at times, but it matters.

And so this was the prayer I whispered as I thought about my everyday routine through God’s eyes:

“Enter into my everyday and touch it with Your glory.”

Because I know that God’s Presence transforms the ordinary.

I live in a physical world, but my soul is made for the spiritual world, and I need to keep that in perspective so I can live alive.

The excitement of a new VS role was bound to wear off, but the awesomeness of being the unworthy hands and feet of Jesus is a daily inspiration that will never run out.

How does God view your ordinary? And what part of your everyday can His touch of glory revive?

Just as this simple clover field was transformed in the sunlight at golden hour, our work is made beautiful when we see our everyday moments in the light of God’s glorious purposes.

“And let us not be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” Galatians 6:9