Doing dishes is a big part of my life. Too big a part of my life. It started at a very early age. When I was born, my mother didn’t see a child to nurture and to cherish; she

saw a future dish washer. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but she was very enthusiastic about teaching me how to do the dishes; and she didn’t waste any time in starting my career.

At first I wasn’t very good. I didn’t get all the grease off the pans, and I splashed water all over the place. This didn’t daunt my mother. She put a raincoat on me and began to coach me in the finer points of dish washing. She taught me the proper amount of soap to add to a basin of water, the exact temperature the water should be, and how to stack the dishes in the dish drain so that they wouldn’t fall and would dry quickly.

I was surprised by the patience she had as she taught me. She gently corrected my mistakes and praised me when I did a good job. It is only now that I realize she knew the value of a well-trained dish-washing slave and was willing to take the time to get the initial training right.

But by the time I came to this realization, it was too late. I was stuck in my position. I was a well-trained dish washer with guaranteed work for endless decades. As a result, the rest of my life started revolving around washing dishes. I began to see everything in relationship to dishes. Some people can’t see a forest for the trees, and I couldn’t see a meal for the dishes. Meals became pre-dishwashing ceremonies. Thanksgiving and other holidays were only heavier dish-wash­ing days. When my father prayed, “...God bless the hands that prepared it...”, I said to myself, “And the hands that will clean it up.”

When each of my four siblings was born I have to admit that the thought that they were “Just another plate to wash.” did enter my mind. But through the thousands of dish-washing ses­sions, I endured, comforting myself with the thought of someday escaping my duties for more noble tasks.

So here I am in 1993. I’m eighteen years old, and I decide to apply for a staff position at the Summit, the Christian leadership training center in Colorado Springs, Colorado. I send in my application and then wait anxiously for a reply. I’m thrilled when the call comes inform­ing me I’ve been accepted. I’ll be a leading a small group of guys in a Bible study. Josh Harris, small group leader at the Summit. Pretty impor­tant stuff! But then my dream starts falling apart. They inform me that leading the small group will be only a small part of my job. They mention something about a kitchen. I start to get nervous. I’m not hearing what the person is say­ing; I’m only thinking, “Kitchen? Why are they talking to me about their kitchen?” Then the person says, “Of course since you’re only eigh­teen you’ll be a dishwasher. It’s a big job. We have over 160 students eating three times a day.”

“This is what I deserve,” I thought to myself. “Jonah couldn’t run from God, and I can’t run from dishes.” But once I settled into my job as a Summit dishwasher, I discovered it wasn’t so bad after all. It was exciting to be part of a team. The work being done at the Summit to train Christian young people is important, and I was doing my part to keep it running. Sure it was messy and greasy, but it needed to be done. Then I realized that I didn’t really mind that my mother taught me how to do dishes at a rather young age. I didn’t mind that the dishes were my responsibility at home. I was proud to be part of my family team; I was proud to be doing my part to keep my family running smoothly. Sure my mom or dad could do the dishes (and they do sometimes), but they had their own jobs to attend to. I didn’t care how small, seemingly unimportant or greasy my job was - it needed to be done, and I could do it.

The lesson I learned washing dishes applies to so many different areas. It’s the same not only in our families but in the body.of Christ - God’s family. There are so many things that need to be done. Little jobs that take place day after day. Jobs that aren’t very glamorous. Jobs that any­one with any dignity is too good for. But if we’re being “servants of all” like Jesus told us to be, is there any job we’re too good for? I don’t think so.

I hope I’m never “too good” to befriend a lonely, unlovable person; care for the needs of a helpless person; visit someone in jail.

During that month at the Summit, I learned that some of the most mundane, menial jobs can be bearable if you have the right attitude. The attitude that takes pride in being a part, even if it’s a small inglorious part, of something impor­tant. Now I look at doing the dishes as one of the “small things” that I can be faithful in. And I have to admit I sometimes take pride in a job well done. Hey, I’m good! Lord knows I’ve had enough practice.~