I never set out to share current stories on this blog,
especially on Mondays. This was supposed
to be a place where people could learn from my old experiences. No kidding.
But this week has been crazy.
Actually, let me expand on that a little bit. The past three
weeks have been crazy. During that time,
my family has participated in the national quiz, Nazarene Youth Conference,
Phil's ordination, our last day at our now previous local church, and campmeeting/family
camp. Somehow, I thought it was a bright
idea to enroll in Advanced Biblical Exegesis during this summer term, and now
that the class is half over, I think I have finally read all of the directions
for assignments and found the links to feedback on the nine papers that I have
submitted while riding in the van, sitting at hotel desks, and falling asleep
on my keyboard, in the kitchen, at two o'clock in the morning. I'm not complaining. I love this life. I just can't figure out what I was thinking
when I signed up for all of this.
It started out quite simple, really. I was reminded of this when one of the adult
worship services ended early and I had a few minutes of downtime while I waited
for the morning children's camp to get out and Ian to appear. Phil, Seth, Miah, and I sat down for just a
moment in the chapel, and one of the children's workers made a joke about how
the last people there were expected to straighten the chairs. He was kidding, but I know what it is to lead
children's ministry, to be exhausted, and to find that when everyone has
vacated the building there are still so many tasks to be done. I told him that we would be happy to straighten
the chairs.
He said, "really?"
We got up and began working on the task.
I don't know if you know this or not, but if you have
someone who wants to volunteer in youth ministry, and there is really nothing
for them to do, you ask them to set up the chairs. It's the job that nobody wants to do. It's the job that you delegate, even if you
are abysmally horrible at delegating. I
mean, no one can really mess up the chairs that
badly, can they? I have set up a lot
of chairs in my life.
Even Miah, who is only five, knew that this was not a
lucrative assignment.
"I don't want to do this, Mommy. Why are we doing this?"
Well, there's a teachable moment if ever I had one. So, looking in the face of my preschooler I
said, "We're doing this, because it will help the children to worship when
they come in tonight". Miah jumped
up and started straightening whole rows of chairs at lightning speed, with a
smile on her face.
At first, I thought it would be hard to share this story
without seeming prideful. I have been
accused of that in recent days. But then
I considered how ludicrous that sounded.
You can think I'm patting myself on the back if you want, but the truth
is that when I stop to think about the fact that I am a woman with multiple degrees,
theologically trained, straightening chairs with my baby at a children's camp;
there is no pride in that. There is
humility. We all need humility. I
need humility.
It was a theme of sorts for this week.
As another example, Phil was asked if he could serve as an
usher. Near the end of the week, the
volunteer who had asked for his help took a few minutes to ask who he was,
where he came from. As the story came
out that Phil is a pastor, the usher recruiting volunteer was slightly
horrified, because he tries really hard to not
ask pastors to help in this capacity.
Why? Aren't we called to be
servant leaders? Oh wait, perhaps being
an usher is another one of those jobs that we delegate to people who can do
nothing else? Something isn't ringing
quite right here.
Well, an ongoing conversation has been happening at our
house over the course of the past few months.
We have been looking for the things that only we can do, which is sort
of funny in its own right, because there probably isn't really anything that only
we can do. I was reminded of this,
again, as I read a blog post, today, about how God's plans for us are much less
rigid and individualized than we often realize.
But this is probably another topic for another day.
As we straightened chairs and collected offerings, this week,
and then as we sat down at the same Dairy Queen that has been standing on a
corner of downtown for all the years we've been here and all the years we've
been away; something hit me like a ton of bricks. I wrote these thoughts down on a napkin,
because that's really the only appropriate way to save ideas that come to you
over ice cream...
We can do the things that nobody wants to do, and why would
we do anything else? That's it.
These are not the kinds of things that will lead to power or
prestige. They won't come with paychecks
attached or provide any sort of career advancement. But they are the things that won't get done
if we don't do them. It's not because
other people aren't capable. Let's be
real - anyone can straighten chairs or pass a plate (or bucket in this
case). It's because other people are not
willing.
Well, I'm willing.
Here I am. Here we are.
Bring it on.
L.
