Life Lessons from the Custodial Closet

This summer, one of my two jobs is being a member of the custodial team at school. (Is it legal to discuss this at all in the blogging world? Or online? Or anywhere?) I thought it would be just a normal menial labor job....you know, the kind where you go to work, do stuff, and come home without really thinking about anything. I was wrong. This weekend, a large group (around 1,600) of members of one particular Christian denomination (to remain unnamed) came to campus for an annual conference. I was stationed in the campus student center for the past two days, which meant that I cleaned and re-cleaned and triple-cleaned the entire building after each meal. It was an interesting phenomenon, being on that side of the spectrum. I've been to youth conferences, and I know that I never gave the cleaning staff a second thought. I mean, I'm not asking for any credit; that's part of the job, really. Some people did comment, though. Three people said something to the effect of, "Oh boy! Do you hire out? Come to my house!" One lady went so far as to say, "Do you want to be adopted? I could use the help, and you'd really like it, I'm sure!" I laughed, though I wanted to say, "Well, no, actually, I rather like my own family. But if you want to pay me more than my current hourly wage and give me 40 hours a week of work, I'd be happy to become your own personal housemaid!" Then there were the people who took the precious time out of their own busy conference schedules to say in that lovely condescending Christian-ese tone, "Oh, dear, thank you so much for all your hard work!" Maybe I'm being to critical, but that usually led me to think something along the lines of, "Well, I was already aware that you are a Christian, seeing as you're attending a denominational conference, and while thank you for thinking of it, I don't really need to be witnessed at because I'm one too. This just happens to be the most convenient summer job around." There are also the people that observe that we're cleaning and somehow misinterpret the job as custodian/information central/carpenter/waitress/servant. As I was wiping down tables in the dining hall, one man asked, "Oh, would you mind just taking my plate and tray over to where you put them when you're done? I'm talking." Before I could answer, the man next to him told me to keep cleaning and he would take it, which was very kind of him. I was a little ticked off, until some verses I memorized a long time ago came to mind: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus....Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life." So being a custodian hasn't turned out to be just a summer job after all. It's a daily reminder that I am a servant to a much higher authority - one who believes and specializes in outstanding customer service.