Last week I had one of those days that began with the kids waking up too early. Carpet installers were scheduled to arrive early that morning, but the kids still got up several hours beforehand. (What does the government have in common with our family room carpet? Right, they’re both federal disasters.) As if on cue, my fourth child begins throwing up. (Yes, the day of the new carpet.) Oh, and I broke another toe too. At precisely 8 a.m., the doorbell rang, the baby’s diaper leaked everywhere, and the toddler threw up for the third time (on my broken toe) and me. If there was a boiling pot on the stove, I’m sure that would’ve boiled over too. Thankfully, I wasn’t efficient enough to have breakfast started.

In A Lamp For My Feet, Elisabeth Elliot writes, If a man or woman honestly wishes to be a follower, the opportunity will present itself. Christ will say, “Here is your chance. Now, in this situation, you must make your choice. Will it be self? Or will you choose Me?”

An older missionary said something to Amy Carmichael when she was a young missionary that stayed with her for life. She had spoken of something which was not to her liking. His reply was, “See in it a chance to die.”

I read these words that afternoon when the house mercifully quieted down. Sometimes I imagine that only missionaries have great work to do for God, but each one of us have the chance to die, to trade our lives for His.

I had the occasion to relearn this in the quiet of my home one day last week. The reason, of course, is that I didn’t dare leave the house with the way things were turning out. I just knew the keys would’ve been locked in the van too.