As most of you know, I lead a service in the nursing home twice a month. Recently, I was feeling discouraged because my one regular volunteer had to drop out for a while.
I asked myself why I was bothering to keep showing up after all these years.
I asked myself whether a more gifted person would be able to draw more volunteers.
I asked myself whether the number of people who sleep through the service is proof of how boring I am.
I asked myself why the staff didn't know any better than to stand behind me carrying on a distracting conversation, while I was trying to lead the service.
I asked myself why I bother trying to pray for each one individually at the end, when half of them are suddenly desperate to get out of the room instead. Of course, the ones that aren't trying to leave are desperate for attention. Two of the ladies were gravely insulted a couple of weeks ago, because they felt they had been intentionally skipped by my partner who was covering their half of the room. I had actually heard him greet them by name, so I'm confident they weren't skipped, and I think the problem was that 5 minutes later they simply didn't remember being prayed for. But they were truly offended, and I had had to beg their forgiveness. I asked myself what the point was.
I asked myself whether the heckler should be teaching me something. While I was leading a prayer for the victims of Katrina, she kept shouting "Get a move on!"
And then I looked out at the room filled with old people in wheelchairs, and noted that it was more crowded than usual. There were 30 people, not counting the staff. I suddenly realized that there are full-fledged churches that average fewer attendees than that (even though theirs are probably all conscious, and some of mine aren't). And God reminded me that it's not just a room filled with wheelchairs, it's a congregation.
And then, one of the aides ran up to me and gave me an exuberant hug. Last time she asked me to pray because her daughter had moved to Florida, and didn't have a job. She could hardly wait to tell me the news that her daughter had found a job.
And then, after the service, one of the ladies called me over, handed me an envelope, containing a note with some inspirational sayings, pulled me close and said sincerely "you are a good preacher". I always think of myself as a teacher, not as a preacher, so it was a particular gift that day for her to affirm that.
And I suddenly realized once again, that it's not about me. I was worried about my lack of help, and my lack of gifting, and even my lack of motivation, but in the meanwhile there was a congregation waiting to be fed, and comforted, and prayed for.
8 comments:
The important thing is that you're there. There might be (although I doubt it) someone on earth who is able to serve that congregation better than you. But they're not there; you are. In that sense, it is about you, not just about your gifts and abilities or your feelings of discouragement, but about your willingness to be the one person out of over 6 billion people on this planet who is willing to be used by God in this particular ministry. That makes you very special.
I agree with Ray. I felt the same way as you when I was running that ministry. I often got very discouraged. (Now I just get discouraged over the other ministries I'm responsible for.) I guess it's part of the job. Sure, there may be more gifted preachers, but I don't know of any pulpit prince who would have kept showing up month after month, year after year, as you have, to preach to a crowd that's 10% awake. That is a gift of compassion and humility that is rare-- it's also called love. I still think the Srs ministry is one of the most important things we do. We seldom see the impact we make-- until we are so frustrated, we're ready to quit; then God gives us a glimpse, and that gives us a little more fuel to make it to the next week and so on. You're right: this is a walkingrace! Great is your reward in heaven.
Ann,
I agree with Ray and Steve. Your presence and service there must be a great blessing to those people. This reminds me of what Lance once said,” the agony and the ecstasy of ministry is people.” These things are bound to happen when you’re in the people business. Sometimes it gets messy. But I’m glad you continue to show up and let the Lord shine through you.
Sami
Ann,
I must say that I agree with Sami, Steve and Ray. You know that I work with the chronically mentally ill and I understand discouragment. If you ask me how I wound up doing this, I couldn't tell you. Many days, I don't even know why I do it. But then there will be that one day, that one smile, that one sense of pride I have helped to instill and I remember that God has not only entrusted me with His kids, He's equipped me. Not to be perfect. Not to be entertaining but to do what most people dont' want to and simply becasue somebody HAS to. So, for as long as I can, I'll take care of His blessings the best way I know how....with love. And one thing I am certian of Ann, so will you.
OK you guys, you've convinced me just in time. I'll go back tomorrow.
Funny isn't. God is the most powerful, awesome entity in the universe, and yet, as great as he is, he still needs us to carry out his plan. Noah, David, Moses, Paul. You're in good company, Ann. Oh, and by the way, I'm sure a few of their flocks were asleep too.
nice, cozy place you got here :)..
ann from freehold nj,
me and my husband go to a nursing home once a week and read a bible to paralyzed men and women and older people, every week after a hard day at work its really hard to go but once we are there we feel really good that we were able to comfort and just be there for these people.
when we cant make it we have only lady who actually calls us and begs us to come, I find God gave us this ministry and it does two things it blesses them and gods work is done but it also blesses us because these people are a big part of our lives and god use them to minister to us,,,,
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