Let's say you're at an art auction. You've been hired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to get a stunning piece for their collection. At this particular auction, only two items are for sale. The first is a large statue made out of the world's finest marble. The second item is a picture that is made out of macaroni glued to a piece of brown paper. Which one would you bid on? The statue, right? 

Don't answer just yet. There's a bit more information you need to know.

As it turns out, the large marble statue was "created" by the auctioneer's cousin Eddie. He carved it with a chainsaw just 15 minutes before the auction began. While the marble itself is pretty, the artistry is not. In contrast, the macaroni picture just happens to be one of the "lost pasta works" of Picasso. His artistic genius is evidenced in every inch of that picture. Now how would you bid?

If you were a savvy art buyer, you'd throw all your money into the Picasso and forget about that hulking marble mess. Why? Because the value of the work comes from the artist, not merely the materials. 

The same thing is true with our spiritual lives. We can be duped into thinking that our walk with God  is only valuable if it's outwardly impressive like that big piece of marble. "If I had a speaking ministry like so-and-so, then my life would be meaningful." Or, "If I lead the world's leading atheist to faith in Christ, then I'd be getting somewhere." We tend to measure success in ministry based on how many marble moments we can rack up -- moments that are the high points of our spiritual walk.

But we don't experience spiritual highs every day. Somedays seem downright average. There are plenty of days when we don't lead seven people to Christ or get a brilliant insight from some passage of Scripture. There are days when we get stuck in the commute and it's all we can do to just keep a loving attitude at work and bring home enough money to feed the kids. Marble moments are great when they happen, but there are a lot more macaroni moments in our lives. 

So are all of these "average" macaroni days worthless? 

Not if you're in relationship with God and live for Him. He's the artist that transforms the macaroni of our lives into a beautiful piece of art. 

When Jacob, the Jewish patriarch, spoke to the Pharaoh of Egypt at the end of his life, he said, "The years of my pilgrimage are a hundred and thirty. My years have been few and difficult, and they do not equal the years of the pilgrimage of my fathers" (Genesis 47:9). Can you hear a note of brokenness here?

It's as though Jacob was telling Pharaoh, "Are you impressed that I've lived so long? Don't be. Do you know how many days I spent over the past 130 years haggling over the price of goats so I could make ends meet? Are you impressed with my large family or that my boy Joseph turned out so well? It hasn't been a cake walk. I've got twelve sons -- do you have any idea how hard it is to decide who gets to eat the last piece of pizza? I really don't feel like I've accomplished much. It's been a hard life." 

And, yet, when you and I think of Jacob, we remember his perseverance as he wrestled with God. We remember how he became the father of the twelve tribes of Israel. We remember how his character was transformed and how he was included in the Hebrews chapter eleven "hall of faith." We look at him and see a masterpiece of what God can do in someone's life -- even though Jacob was far from perfect.

He made mistakes. He even deceived his own father at one point. He had setbacks. Although he was heir to the Promised Land, he had to abandon it and ended up dying in Egypt. He had his share of macaroni moments when "nothing special" was going on that was worth mentioning in the Bible. But Jacob's mistakes, apparent setbacks and humdrum days were still usable by God. 

What we need to realize is that when we live in obedience to God, He creates an artistic masterpiece out of even the humble stuff of our lives. We become works of art that give glory to the Master Himself.

"A man's steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand his own way?" -- Proverbs 20:24