I deleted more emails this morning.
As a Non-profit leader, my inbox fills with offers to help ‘increase end-of-year giving.’ I generally believe good and helpful organizations send these.
But, several years ago, I believe I heard God calling me to a different path…I was to serve Him, my family, Renovation Community, and this community (especially the poorest) as faithfully as I knew how. And I was to share where I witness God working.
That was all.
No fundraising, grant-writing, or donor appeals. God might call others to such work, but that would not be my calling.
Often, it seems God has called me to a ministry of “Little Things.”
I spent hours today trimming bushes and then hanging Christmas lights. Our Parsonage is the only single-family house on the street, occupied by the only white family on the street. A “renter’s mentality” can easily set in on such a street. Why take care of a place your landlord doesn’t take care of? Why hang Christmas lights if you won’t be here long?
Lights on the Parsonage become an opportunity to minister in “little things.”
I wave to every passing car. I talk with the neighbor across the street and two kids who pass on bicycles. I smile at the same familiar faces I’ve invited many times to worship services. How must I look to my neighbors as I smile and wave? A little strange? Nerdy?
I think of Dr. King’s “Dream” and carry on. I’m ministering through little waves and smiles…striving for a different reality on my own street. I may be strange and nerdy, but at least they’ll know I’m kind and know I would gladly worship in the same room as them.
I’ll never win Church Growth awards with my strategies. But I keep smiling, waving, inviting, and showing neighbors I love my street.
One of my homeless friends passes. We chat about 15 minutes before he continues on his way. I invite him, again, too.
December comes tomorrow.
My inbox calls me to ‘maximize year-end giving.’ “Church X increased its December donations by X% with our proven strategies!”
But Jesus calls me to maximize my time listening to Him. On my knees at our bushes, Corrie Ten Boom’s The Hiding Place audiobook plays in my ears. God miraculously kept a contraband Liquid Vitamin bottle flowing with life-saving drops in a Nazi concentration camp as Corrie and her sister shared God’s love with hurting people. He can handle December, and our finances, much better than me.
Two surprise checks arrived in the mail today from dear family friends.
$500 for my family. $1200 for our church.
He is faithful.
