Have you ever been thrust into a situation where you had to work among people who found it hard to relate to? Like, really hard to relate to?
Let us take a quick look at the community in which my husband currently pastors. Drugs are a big deal out here, which means a lot of mental problems for whole families. There are a lot of broken families. It is a very poor area. Those who have hit on hard times out here have really hit on hard times.
As a way to involve myself in ministry, I agreed to teach the 1st-6th graders on Wednesday evening. Given the size of our church (anywhere from 50-65 regular attendees on Sunday morning), I never know if kids will actually show up on Wednesdays. I could have zero kids, or I could have six kids. Each week is different, and there is no such thing as advance warning.
There are a couple of different crowds who tend to show up. One consists of well-mannered, sweet brothers who are interested in learning and listening to what I have to say. The other crowd is, to put it quite simply, not.
Let me briefly describe the background of this other set of kids. They come from broken homes, have less than ideal living conditions, and are rough around the edges. They would much rather play than listen to the lesson, and they have very little Bible knowledge whatsoever.
I confess, whenever I hear them outside in the church parking lot, I pray fervently for grace and lots of love to show them as I gear up for what I know is going to be the longest hour of my week.
This Wednesday, I found myself praying over and over again, "Oh, Lord, please help me love them," as I felt the frustration rising within me when I had to tell them yet again to put the stapler away and pay attention.
It's hard to love someone who isn't just like me. It's hard to be understanding and have grace for where they're coming from if their history isn't similar enough to my own. And yet, I am called to do hard things. Loving those who don't look just like me is specifically something I am called to.
Matthew 4:47 says, "And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?"
That's a high standard to attain when it seems you have absolutely nothing in common with the people with whom you are interacting. But attain it we must, for the very next verse tells us to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect. (vs. 48)
I come from a big family with parents who love each other and have remained married for the past 30 years. I was taught from birth to love Jesus. Every week, my family went to church to learn, and were then quizzed on what we learned on the car ride home. Every. Week.
When I have this rougher crowd in my classroom on Wednesdays, I have a really hard time relating to them. We have practically nothing in common aside from the fact that we are all created in the image of God, and that He is gracious to all of us. I didn't get to pick my background, family, living conditions, etc., and neither did these kids.
It is imperative to remember that we are all the same before God. We are all sinners in need of a Savior. We are flawed, broken members of the human race in desperate need of love. We have very stark outward differences, but inwardly we are all the same.
And so, even if I spend my Wednesday evenings trying my hardest to get those kids to stop getting paint on the table, or to not throw bean bags at each other, this could be the most meaningful hour of my week. They may very well not be recipients of Christ's love at home. If I can meet them where they're at and be gracious and loving, then it is an hour well spent.
Oh, Lord, transform my heart and attitude
Let us take a quick look at the community in which my husband currently pastors. Drugs are a big deal out here, which means a lot of mental problems for whole families. There are a lot of broken families. It is a very poor area. Those who have hit on hard times out here have really hit on hard times.
As a way to involve myself in ministry, I agreed to teach the 1st-6th graders on Wednesday evening. Given the size of our church (anywhere from 50-65 regular attendees on Sunday morning), I never know if kids will actually show up on Wednesdays. I could have zero kids, or I could have six kids. Each week is different, and there is no such thing as advance warning.
There are a couple of different crowds who tend to show up. One consists of well-mannered, sweet brothers who are interested in learning and listening to what I have to say. The other crowd is, to put it quite simply, not.
Let me briefly describe the background of this other set of kids. They come from broken homes, have less than ideal living conditions, and are rough around the edges. They would much rather play than listen to the lesson, and they have very little Bible knowledge whatsoever.
I confess, whenever I hear them outside in the church parking lot, I pray fervently for grace and lots of love to show them as I gear up for what I know is going to be the longest hour of my week.
This Wednesday, I found myself praying over and over again, "Oh, Lord, please help me love them," as I felt the frustration rising within me when I had to tell them yet again to put the stapler away and pay attention.
It's hard to love someone who isn't just like me. It's hard to be understanding and have grace for where they're coming from if their history isn't similar enough to my own. And yet, I am called to do hard things. Loving those who don't look just like me is specifically something I am called to.
Matthew 4:47 says, "And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?"
That's a high standard to attain when it seems you have absolutely nothing in common with the people with whom you are interacting. But attain it we must, for the very next verse tells us to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect. (vs. 48)
I come from a big family with parents who love each other and have remained married for the past 30 years. I was taught from birth to love Jesus. Every week, my family went to church to learn, and were then quizzed on what we learned on the car ride home. Every. Week.
When I have this rougher crowd in my classroom on Wednesdays, I have a really hard time relating to them. We have practically nothing in common aside from the fact that we are all created in the image of God, and that He is gracious to all of us. I didn't get to pick my background, family, living conditions, etc., and neither did these kids.
It is imperative to remember that we are all the same before God. We are all sinners in need of a Savior. We are flawed, broken members of the human race in desperate need of love. We have very stark outward differences, but inwardly we are all the same.
And so, even if I spend my Wednesday evenings trying my hardest to get those kids to stop getting paint on the table, or to not throw bean bags at each other, this could be the most meaningful hour of my week. They may very well not be recipients of Christ's love at home. If I can meet them where they're at and be gracious and loving, then it is an hour well spent.
Oh, Lord, transform my heart and attitude
You are a light in a truly dark place, a place where there is no light. And light is always stronger than darkness.
ReplyDelete"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5
It is a very hard place to be in ministry. It is spiritually dark, and that can get frustrating and discouraging in a hurry. But, we are here for a reason. God has a plan. That is a comforting thought indeed.
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