
A paradox is offered in Leviticus 2. Here we find the Supreme Creator of the Universe, who hangs stars on nothing, carves mountain ranges, and sets the boundaries of the seas, telling His people how He wants to be approached. He doesn’t request some great feat or the completion of a quest. Jehovah doesn’t want Jason’s Golden Fleece, Hera’s apple, Arthur’s grail, or even Sauron’s ring. Instead, He asks for some common kitchen ingredients: fine flour, oil, and salt.
Wow! We serve a God who doesn’t demand we scale a cosmic ladder of challenges, but who just wants the ordinary results of our daily labor to be given for His glory.
Yet, this creates its own struggle. We prefer the epic quest over ordinary obedience because it quietly pets our ego. We speak with God the way a man speaks to his wife when he declares, “I would do anything for you!” By “anything,” he means fighting dragons, crossing stormy seas, and traversing dangerous wastelands. He certainly does not mean folding laundry, washing dishes, or operating the vacuum cleaner. Anything. Anything big. Our love is meant for romantic heroism, not household servitude.
We bring this same doublespeak to our relationship with God, loudly proclaiming our willingness to do the most epic or endure the most harsh; we espouse our willingness to embrace radical challenges while living our lives with systematic neglect of daily devotion and holiness. We bring Him our casual leftovers, the scraps of our time, talent, and treasure after we have invested the principal parts of our lives to pursue our own comforts and desires.
Then we wonder why the fire of heaven refuses to fall on our convenient sacrifice.
What if I told you that God has little interest in your imaginary slaying of dragons, but He is incredibly interested in your faithfulness in the mundane moments of life? Sanctification, becoming like Him, happens in the hot coals of the ordinary: when the alarm goes off and you choose devotional time over the snooze button, when you do your vocational work as unto the Lord, when you bite your tongue in moments of emotional tension, and when you quietly serve others.
God is not asking you for the grand gesture. He took care of that on the cross. He is asking you for the ordinary. Will you give it to Him?
Today, replace daydreaming about your future feats of spiritual service with fixing areas of disobedience or neglect that are right in front of you. Maybe you could identify a particularly mundane task, a chore you dread, or a quiet moment of devotion that you either rush through or complain about. Take a moment and make it your grain offering; explicitly offer it to God as service in the ordinary. THAT is a pleasing aroma to Him.
Don’t miss any of the latest content from pastorconley.com Enter your email address below to have all the latest content delivered directly to your inbox FIRST and FREE!

Leave a comment