Showing posts with label servant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label servant. Show all posts

Monday, October 23, 2017

When Memory and Reality Don't Quite Match Up But the Service Remains


I almost always say yes. That leads to lots of open doors, and is one of the reasons I have such a fun and exciting life. Every once in a while, though, I wish I'd taken a little longer to consider my yeses.

I've agreed to write the story of the work of Baptists in Gilead. It's an enormous task that will be a full-length book if it's ever finished. When it's finished. Sorry. I had a moment of doubt, but I'll press on until it's done, because I've given my word. 

The stories of the service in this area over a forty-year period are simply amazing. To gather those stories, I've interviewed tons of people about the doctors and nurses who worked here, the amazing sacrifices they made, and the lives that were changed.

When I began to assimilate the stories, I found an unusual thing. The actual timeline doesn't always match the perceived timeline of memories. On occasion, the people given credit for an action weren't present in the country at the time. Sometimes, a person who did something remarkable, according to the "facts", is never mentioned by the people I interview.

It's been confusing. Frustrating. Difficult to sort out. I finally have official records for the timeline and am making progress in sorting memory from reality.

What I've realized, though, is that, even when memories are a little skewed, there's still some important truth hidden within. One of my favorite stories was of one of the doctors and his wife. It was winter and the pipes had frozen at the hospital. As you can well imagine, the soiled laundry at the hospital quickly piled up. 

One of the doctors (I'm still not sure about which one did this) realized there was a shortage of clean linen. He loaded up the dirty linen in a huge bundle and toted it to his house. He and his wife washed and dried all the laundry. This was before the days of electric dryers, so they probably had to hang them over doors and furniture.

When it was done, he toted it back again. 

The laundry was done during the time he wasn't seeing patients. He used his "off-time" to wash soiled hospital sheets. 

Do you know the kind of filth that's on hospital laundry? This is not something you want to handle in your home, or by yourself. 

The doctor didn't complain or argue or whine or ask someone else to do it. He didn't claim his important medical work as a reason for someone else to do the dirty work. He simply did what needed to be done.

Every time I remember that story, I think about the great cloud of witnesses in heaven as they leaned over and watched the doctor and his wife wash sheets late into the night. I suspect there was great rejoicing over the humility and servanthood of those two sweet people.

Theirs is an example I want to follow. No job too big or small. No pride to stop my service.

The memories aren't clear yet on who did this work, but what's most remarkable of all is that there are several physicians who lived such lives of service and sacrifice that any of them might have done this good work. 

Let's imagine for a moment what the body of Christ would look like to a dark and perishing world if we served the way those doctors served. 

Imagine no task left undone because it was too hard or too dirty. 

Imagine finding the difficult work done and saying, "There are so many people I know who might have done this without complaining that I don't know which one did it." 

You know what people outside the church would say? The same thing they said here: "Those doctors loved perfectly. They served Christ and gave their lives for the people here." 

If we lived and loved in such sacrificial ways, another thing would happen. People wouldn't just take note. They'd want what we have, and our world would change, one heart at a time.

Today, let's look for unexpected ways we can serve, then step up and do what needs to be done. 

"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of you regard one another as more important than himself; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interest of others. Have this attitude in yourselves, which was also in Christ Jesus, who. . .humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." Philippians 2:3-8 nasb
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There are many stories I'd like to share with you about this amazing journey, but they can only be shared in person. I'll do another brunch (like last time) to allow an opportunity for story-sharing, but I'm also happy to share with groups of any size. Message me to schedule a time.
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In case you missed the most recent post, here's the link: When Your Prayers Need a Little Help From a Friend

If you feel led to partner with this ministry, here's the link to give your tax-deductible donations: Global Outreach Acct 4841 

You can also mail your check or money order to: Global Outreach/ PO Box 1, Tupelo MS 38802. Be sure to put Account 4841 in the "for" line.

Friday, August 4, 2017

When Ministry Means Small Jobs, Big Love, and Dying to Self


The work of caregiving is hard. The hours are long. When the person receiving care is in your home, it's a 24/7/365 kind of job. If the care-receiver is too weak to do for themselves, the caregiving involves everything from preparing and feeding food to emptying and cleaning bedside commodes.

There's nothing easy about it.

Mother Teresa often talked about doing small things with great love. That's how she cared for the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, but she didn't invent the idea. Her philosophy for ministry came straight from Jesus. 

"When you've done it unto the least of these my brethren, you've done it unto me..." "Love one another as I have loved you..."

Yesterday was a hard day, as some days are. I started the day full of energy, but found I'd slept through a problem in the night, and had a lot of cleanup to do. It was one of those not-much-goes-right days, and I was quickly exhausted by it.

One refrain played in my head: "Small things, great love..." Every time I thought of those words, I was reminded, "Least of these, done to me..." Those few words fueled my work yesterday. 

Throughout the day, I prayed, "God, give me a servant heart that doesn't balk at the hard tasks." To be perfectly candid, that's not the kind of heart I had at the beginning of the day. I wept off and on all day, not because the work was hard but because my heart wasn't quite right.

 By the end of the day, though, I wasn't begging for a changed heart anymore; I was thanking God because He'd already accomplished it.

That heart-change has nothing to do with whether or not I have a "good" heart. It has to do with the fact that I have a good God. A faithful God.

When we ask God to make us more like Him, He'll do it and take delight in the doing. 

Yesterday, I counted on God's grace, and He didn't let me down. 

No matter how small, stinky, or difficult the task, we can do it with great love if we allow the love of Christ to fill us and work through us. 

There's one other requirement for doing a small job with great love, and it's the one we like the least: dying to self. If I am to do the hard jobs of caregiving with great love, I will have to die to myself and my desires. I'll have to live for Christ and those He loves.

What did I want yesterday? I wanted to wear a summery dress and go out for lunch with friends. I wanted to laugh over our meal and worry about nothing more complex than whether or not to have dessert. I wanted all my housework to be done and extra money in the bank. 

Instead, God's work for me yesterday was to die to that dream, and spend the day caring for an elderly man. To wash soiled sheets and clothes. To clean up the potty chair and mop the bathroom. To prepare food that couldn't be eaten. To weep with those who are too worn out to weep. To rejoice over the tiniest of victories. To die to self.

When those jobs were accomplished, the things I wanted seemed trivial and trite. They didn't matter at all. At the end of the day, I could honestly call it a good day. 

What I remember about yesterday is not the mess that was made nor the things I cleaned. What I remember is the love that was shared. I hope that's what Sam remembers, too. 

If you think of us today, pray that I have a servant heart, willing to do the hardest tasks with great love because I'm not just serving Sam. I'm serving Jesus.

If you're facing hard tasks, try doing them this same way...ask God for a heart that loves even in the most difficult situations. Relinquish your desires and embrace those of our Father, who knows what's best. 

That's what ministry is all about: dying to self so we can do small things with great love in the name of Jesus.

"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" Matthew 25:40 niv
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Please like and share if this blog post has touched your heart. It extends our digital reach in significant ways. Thank you.

In case you missed it, here's the link to yesterday's post: When You Have a Plan but God Has a Better One

If you feel led to partner with this ministry (US, Middle East, the digital world), here's the link to give your tax-deductible donations: Global Outreach Acct 4841 

Or you can mail your check or money order to: Global Outreach/ PO Box 1, Tupelo MS 38802. Be sure to put Account 4841 in the "for" line
#servantheart 

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Soft Drinks, Snacks, and Airplane Takeoff



I made my way down the narrow aisle of the airplane. Backpack slung over one shoulder and sliding down as quickly as I pushed it back in place, pulling my rolling bag behind me, I was anything but graceful. The plane was packed and I was in D seat. The middle one. 

I plopped my backpack on my seat and went in search of an overhead compartment. A few seats back, I finally found a spot, jostled through the crowd, and stowed my bag. The rest of my fellow passengers were busy with the tasks of preparing for the flight. 

At last, we were all settled, seats in the upright position, tray tables up, personal items securely stowed under the seat in front of us, seat belts fastened. There was a collective sigh. We were ready to go.

We waited.

We waited some more.

At last, the pilot came on the intercom system. There had been a problem, he said. My first thought was sabotage of the aircraft. (I know. It's not likely, but I'm a suspense writer. What can I say?) It was not sabotage. It was a crazy error. 

Our takeoff was delayed because the catering truck had serviced the wrong airplane. Our plane couldn't take off because there were no soft drinks and cookies. I laughed. Surely this was a joke. A plane couldn't fly without soft drinks and snacks? 

He was serious.

The catering truck was several miles away, and we would have to wait for its arrival. It would take a while. I had a long layover after the flight, so my schedule was flexible. Not everyone had the same luxury. I heard groans throughout the cabin as people calculated the likelihood of making their connection. No one wanted to miss their next flight because of ginger ale and cookies.

He allowed the crazy truth to sink in, then offered a solution. We could go without snacks and sodas if everyone was agreeable. He suggested an applause vote. Everyone who wanted to leave without waiting for the catering truck should clap. The applause was deafening. Everyone who wanted to wait for the snacks should clap next. Not one person dared to applaud. 

The engine roared to life and we were soon airborne. No snacks. No sodas.

As it turned out, the staff were not completely without refreshments to offer. They had cups and napkins, but not a lot else. There was some coffee and a few leftover snacks. After a quick count, they found there was enough for everyone to have one snack. 

The stewardesses brewed coffee. Halfway through the flight, the ladies pulled their refreshment cart into the aisle and headed through the cabin. 

They were not only accustomed to serving, they were determined to serve. 

We had our choice of a half-cup of coffee or a full cup of water and either a cookie, a small bag of peanuts, or a small bag of pretzels.

I accepted my coffee and peanuts, grateful for the service they had chosen to provide. It seemed like a bonus, rather than something to which we were "entitled". 

What surprised me about this incident was the determination to serve. We had been told there would be no service. The stewardesses could have offered nothing and no one would have questioned their decision.

Instead, they served because serving is what they do. Having little did not deter them.

We, as the body of Christ, could take a lesson from those determined ladies. We are also called to serve. The imperative of service has nothing at all to do with the amount God has placed in our hands. Rich and poor alike are to serve one another, in humility and love. Talented and less talented share the same mandate of service. 

We are called to be servants, because servanthood was the example our Lord set for us.

Hear the words of Jesus: 

Sitting down, He called the twelve and said to them, "If anyone wants to be first, he shall be last of all and servant of all." Mark 9:35 nasb

It's an odd paradox. In the Kingdom of God, position is determined by service. The first are last. The lowest servants occupy the highest spot. 

As disciples of Christ, we are called to serve, so let's serve, no matter what resources God has given us. Let us pour out ourselves to those around us, giving freely, loving with abandon, demonstrating to a cold and dark world that the light of Christ has come for all.

#servant #JesusChrist #disciple #airlinesnacks 

photo courtesy of freeimages.com