We also have a toilet that tends to overflow. It requires an intermittent, ongoing plunge that can get pretty bothersome, too. I never realized how these two little nuisances could become such a crisis of cataclysmic proportions until they both inhabited the same toilet. I put the calamity equation together pretty quickly, though, once I was in the middle of the ugliest overflow I've ever seen.
I tiptoed in, took the top off the tank, and stopped the eruption. But I was so grossed out that I wasn't quite sure what to do next. I opened the cabinet to see which towels I could live without (forever), and as I pulled open the door, six rolls of toilet paper came tumbling out. Within a few seconds the six rolls poofed to the size of 18. I felt like I was stepping through a minefield of giant marshmallows. At least they're absorbent, I thought.
Sometimes flushing out just the right place to serve the Lord can seem about as tricky. Thankfully, it's not nearly so messy. But it may require a plunge-in attitude: Not diving in because another person tells us to or because we feel guilty if we don't, and not diving in without thought, but sensibly diving into service because that's what God has called us to do. God's Word gives us "plunge in" instructions in 2 Timothy 1:7: "God doesn't want us to be shy with his gifts, but bold and loving and sensible." Verse 1 of chapter 2 charges us, "So, my son, throw yourself into this work for Christ" (The Message).
Rhonda Rhea is the author of Amusing Grace: Hope and Hilarity in the Everyday Calamity of Motherhood. She experiences this grace with five children and her husband, Richie, who is a pastor in Troy, Mo.