He Thirsts for Your Commonness

Common.png

We may think that God, the creator of the universe, couldn’t be bothered with our nitty-gritty monotony. But that’s a lie straight from the mouth of the devil. God thirsts for our common day-to-day.

God isn’t just interested in our highs and lows (make no mistake - he wants those, too), but he also desires the smallest details that make up our life here on this earth.

The King of Glory wants to be invited into those bleary-eyed 2am baby feedings, the tedious days at the office, and the tugs of little kids on the hem of your shirt. The Savior of your soul wants to exist with you in the coffee shop, the car drive home, and the waiting line at the bank. The Father of Light desires to abide with you when you’re folding laundry, loading the dishwasher, or filling up your car with gas.

These aren’t just the musings of a sleep-deprived blogger. Scripture tells us that Christ wants to meet us in the duties of our daily life.

When Christ hung on the cross, he became aware that everything was finished. John’s Gospel tells us that, in order to fulfill the Scripture, Our Lord cried out, “I thirst.” There, at the foot of the cross, was a vessel filled with common wine. Before Jesus breathed his last, he took a drink of that common wine. But he wasn’t just thirsting for a drink to slake his thirst. He was thirsting for you. He was thirsting for your common wine.

While on a Blessed is She retreat this weekend, Tricia Tembreull shared a quote from Father Walter Ciszek that stuck with me.

“The temptation is to overlook these things as God's will,” Father Ciszek wrote in He Leadeth Me. “The temptation is to look beyond these things, precisely because they are so constant, so petty, so humdrum and routine, and to seek to discover instead some other and nobler ‘will of God' in the abstract that better fits our notion of what his will should be.”

The next time you’re tempted to think that your boring life could be of no interest to the God who breathes stars, remember that the Lord thirsts for you. He desires to be satiated by the common wine of your daily life, your humdrum, your routine. So invite him to drink in your monotony.