Jesus' public ministry bookended by the Spirit

Monday had a pretty spectacular start. Picture it. I was bent over a dry stream bed, long-sleeved shirt on along with heavy gloves, pry bar in hand, sweat running into my eyes, digging rocks out of the dry hard earth. Why was I doing this? There were some pretty cool stones down there that we (my husband and I) wanted to rescue before filling this low area with dirt.

We live on 30 acres in the boonies, and for the past few years we have been tearing out antiquated (that means “very old”) fences, dredging up rusty metal from the previous owners’ private dump and trimming overgrown trees. This was just another day in paradise. While huffing and puffing, I lifted the heavy stones from the ground to the bucket of the tractor.

I think it was then that the Holy Spirit lightly breathed on me. Because it immediately occurred to this sweaty version of me that most days are like this. Ordinary. Doing what we need to do, whether we feel like it or not. Putting one foot in front of the other. Much of the time doing the very same things we did the day before. (And we have to do them again?? Already?) Throwing dirty clothes into the washer–later switching them over to the dryer. Then comes the folding, stacking and putting away in drawers and closets. Washing dishes or sticking them in the dishwasher to get them out of sight. Going to the same dull office to do the same dull work. Changing diapers. Buying groceries. Fixing meals. Mowing the lawn. Pulling weeds. Painting the shed. You understand. I know you do. Later on, while watering our chestnut saplings (not with a watering can or a hose but driving a non-functioning mower with an attached water tank behind) I began raising my arm up and down while counting to 35. See, the right amount of water flows out of the wand in that many seconds. I merely needed to repeat this about a hundred times before I could call it done. It came as I was on my 27th tree… a different kind of micro-thought nudged my mind… Just a couple of hours ago you prayed that the Holy Spirit would use you in whatever way he/she wanted. It’s gonna be hard for that to happen out here. I knew there was truth in that. How could God use me in this barren place at this particular time? I felt insignificant as I continued to count to 35 tree after tree after tree.

Do I need to become a missionary halfway around the world for God to use me? Or speak a spectacular sermon to a crowded sanctuary? Save souls? (I definitely won’t be saving any souls for Jesus today. I may not even see another human being.) And then I got my mojo back. Because I sensed a quiet small voice veto those ideas as he/she reminded me that when Jesus breathed his Spirit onto the disciples and all the others in that upstairs room on that particular day and at that particular time, it had started out as an ordinary day.

The Holy Spirit is like the wind. John 3:8 says, “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” The wind blows this way and that and you can’t see it. But you can see the evidence of it. Think about the autumn leaves blowing all over the place. We can see the leaves moving around, but we cannot see what it is that is causing the leaves to move.

On Monday morning, I didn’t see the wind blowing, but the evidence was there. The Holy Spirit had planted the thoughts for today’s GPS in my head and my heart. It was an answer to the morning prayer I had voiced only a few hours before. The Holy Spirit is not on holiday during the ordinary days of our lives. He/she is front and center. We just can’t see her with our eyes. We can, however, see the evidence of him, if we only watch and listen.