I often hear people put the words “just” or “only” in front of their descriptions.

I’m just a student.

I’m just a housewife.

I’m just a mom.

I’m just a secretary.

I’m just a bus driver.

Saying “I’m just . . . ” in that context implies the speaker feels somehow subpar, that others have a bigger role in life.

It’s true that God sometimes takes a person from relative obscurity, gives them a big job, and puts them out in front. Moses, Joseph, Gideon, David, Daniel, Peter, and so many others come to mind.

But most of the people preached to in the Bible, the people who made up the churches the New Testament letters were written to, were just ordinary people learning what it meant to live for Christ in their worlds.

Some of the people we see in the Bible were in the spotlight for a while, but went back to ordinary life: Ruth, Zechariah and Elizabeth, Anna, Simeon, and others. There are some of Jesus’ disciples about whom we know nothing but their names. Mary, the mother of Jesus, experienced some spectacular episodes around Jesus’ birth. But most of the rest of her life was involved with the everyday happenings of a Jewish mother in Nazareth.

Then there were people like the little girl who served Naaman’s wife and told about the prophet in Israel who could heal her master, or the boy who gave his small lunch to the disciples, which was broken and multiplied to feed thousands.

Ordinary life is where the rubber meets the road, isn’t it? That’s where we tend to let our guard down. But that’s also where the bulk of our ministry is, among our own family, neighborhood, and church.

Some of the ordinary people who have ministered to me:

A couple in our church who often invited me over for a meal, followed by their family devotional time, and unwittingly modeled for me what a godly marriage and family looked like.

A woman just ahead of me in life seasons who talked about her teenage daughter while we put up a missionary bulletin board at church and shaped my view of parenting teenagers.

A couple at church who anonymously paid for my tuition to a Christian school for my last two years of high school. This not only helped me become grounded spiritually, but led to the college I attended, where I met my husband. To this day I don’t know who they are, but I think I might have an idea.

The woman who served with a smile almost every time the church had a function involving food.

People who may never have taught a class or preached a message, but who prayed or shared a quiet word of encouragement.

People who do their jobs with excellence and a good attitude, who are a balm after dealing with people who don’t.

My grandfather used to say, “God must love common folks, He made so many of us.”

Most of us are “common folks.” But God loves us and can use us in our everyday ordinary ways to minister to others and glorify Him.

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