My days are busier than ever. A certain someone in the household--not me!--was put on a concussion watch briefly last week. Our indoor cat got out of the house on a rainy night (she made her way back about 45 minutes later). And a certain someone--again, not me!--broke a bone in her foot in just the right way that it required an ambulance ride to the hospital because she couldn't walk to the car. I've been thinking that if I can get a paragraph onto The Good Raised Up, I'll be pleased. --LizThere are a number of categories of service.
Service to self. Service to strangers. Service to friends and family. Service to community. Service to God.
Service to God looks a lot like being faithful to how God leads me, paying careful attention to doing things I would not consider doing, just because God asks me.
Service to community sometimes looks like doing something not because God asks me but because the community needs something done and I'm available and willing to do it. (Think "semi-annual work day at the meetinghouse.")
Service to friends and family is a different sort of extending myself to be available to them, like answering all the becks-and-calls because someone's laid up with a broken foot. It just comes with the territory.
Service to strangers is my weakest suit. I need a lot of support--or maybe a lot of faith?--to approach people I don't know or work in a community center that's unfamiliar to me. I've still got room to grow and work to do in this area.
Service to myself is a paradox: The more I serve others, the more I feel like I receive. When I take myself out of the center of my own life and put God or community or family there, and when I make myself genuinely available to them as a support or as a spiritual servant, I am often lifted from my own ennui, despair, or worry, at least for awhile.
Well, I've got to go. Someone's calling me, asking for help.