It was Jesus who came to earth to serve. He even stated in the gospels that he who wants to be first must be a servant of all. (WordNerds can check out Mark 9:35. [Drops mic])

So why can’t I get it through my thick skull?! It’s like I need to run into a wall a million times before I realize I should change directions.

Take for example this past Saturday. Me, in all my righteous glory, was preparing to teach at Girls of Grace in Atlanta. I listened to worship music as I got ready, read my daily devotion, and prayed. I mean, I was checking things off my righteousness list LIKE A BOSS. If God was giving away an award for SuperSaturdayChristian, I would totally win it. [And I’d ask for a sash so everyone would know that I’m God’s favorite. But I wouldn’t wear my crown. You know, so everyone would know that I’m keeping humble about my accolades and all.]

But see, all this was done in the comfort of my hotel room. Alone. Without human interaction. And you know what I realized? My Christianity is nothing if I’m isolated and alone. Nothing.

I rushed downstairs to grab breakfast before my ride arrived, but I was met with a line, four people deep. There was a young teen girl with her mother trying to decide what type of grilled carbohydrate she would indulge in.

Girl: What should I get? Pancakes or waffles? Or a cinnamon bun with frosting?
Mom: Well, that’s your choice. But if you order pancakes please get them with blueberries so you have some fruit.
Girl: Maybe I’ll just do a waffle and get some fruit on the side.
Mom: It’s up to you. Both are great options.

At this point, I had aged about ten years and had a perma-scowl on my face like Milani Trump. I don’t know if I was more bothered with the fact that she was skinny and ordering carbs or that I was late and had to order egg whites?! Either way, I tapped my foot as this child was acting like the decision would effect her future grandchildren.

So then I shouted from the back of the line, IT’S BREAKFAST, SWEETHEART! NOT THE TREATY OF VERSAILLES! JUST PICK SOMETHING. Ok, no I didn’t. But I wanted to. [Did you hear that? My crown of righteousness just broke into a million little pieces.] I swallowed my comment and asked for Jesus to give me a muzzle. By the time I ordered, my ride had arrived, so the server dropped my food into a plastic container. I ran out the door with my soggy, half-cooked egg whites and a badittude that would make Michael the Archangel shake his head at me.

The worst part up until this point of my Saturday was in the middle of my internal tantrum, I overheard the mother and her friend tell the young girls to pray for their food. Oh great, I thought to myself, Jesus is showing me they’re Christians and I’m just a poser who needs salvation. 

I thankfully find my salvation on my commute to the venue and all is well with my soul. And the holy sash I was still wearing.

That was until the very end of the conference when I’m approached by two mothers and their daughters, Blueberry Pancakes and Cinnamon Bun. Internet, I D.I.E.D. The group at the hotel breakfast line WERE ATTENDEES AT THE CONFERENCE. They wanted to meet me and thank me for sharing at the conference and urged me to keep fighting for freedom. I thanked them all and slowly slithered backstage.

I was so committed to preparing myself to serve at the conference. I had prayed and prepared and prepared and prayed. I asked God to empower me to teach His word to those who would attend. But I missed it. I totally and completely missed it. I had a wonderful opportunity to serve through love and grace and patience to people I didn’t know, but I failed.

The good news is that I’m not alone. The disciples missed it when they tried shooing the children away from Jesus. Martha missed it when Mary served Jesus through presence and not actions. The prodigal son’s brother missed his serve opportunity by griping and throwing a hissy fit. We are all prone to missing out on the opportunities in front of us to serve.

Servanthood isn’t when all eyes are on you. It’s not on a blog. It’s not something we get paid to do or accolades received. Serving is putting others before ourselves no matter the cost. It’s dying to our desires for the sake of those around us. This is the call of Christ. And it’s ours.

So I’ve swept up the imaginary pieces of my crown of righteousness and threw them away with my sash. As Paul says, I count that as rubbish. The good news is that the disciples learned servanthood, Martha witnessed the miraculous, and I have been extended grace to be a servant to all. Even those who get to eat carbohydrates. 😉 

Wherever we are today, we have the opportunity to follow the example of Jesus to serve. Serve when it hurts. Serve when you don’t want to. Serve because you can. Serve because we are called to.