Tag: help

Perspective

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Today I was late to church.

I struggled all morning and had really decided NOT to go. But about half an hour before the service started, I realized I had to be in town anyway for a couple of things and so decided to go ahead and go to church.
My struggle today had nothing to do with the time change or this allergy cold that hit me last week. My struggle today had everything to do with the fact that I was headed, once again, to a service by myself. And I just didn’t want to.


Now, I have attended church for years, primarily by myself. Most days, I just breeze right in without a thought or care of my singleness. But there are days. Days like today. Where it hits me hard. I don’t love being single. I’m in no hurry to be part of a duo, but I’m not in love with being single forever.
There were a lot of years, too, where I was married and still attended singly. If you have been in a similar situation, you can testify that it can be even MORE difficult when your soul’s desire is a helpmate to lead spiritually in the household. Someone to take your hand and say, “Let’s go to the house of the Lord.” But for the majority of my Christian walk, I go alone.


And today I was late. I walked into the service and saw a full house and wanted to cry at the thought of telling the usher I just needed one seat.
So I fled to the balcony, praying there would be seats. There were.
I had a talk with Jesus during worship. I asked forgiveness for my tooty attitude. I thanked Him for the opportunity to come to church in a country that so far has not outlawed it. And I solidified my vow that regardless of my relationship status, I serve Him, and Him only.


He reminded me that this place of worship I attend is FULL of people I know and love and that some of them love me back. I looked over the balcony wall to the congregation below and saw so many of those very people. And nearly every one of them had an empty seat next to them. He pointed out that had I not let my feelings take over, I could have found a spot. I could have sat in community with friends who also worship my God. And He reminded me this is temporary. This season is short in the grand scheme. At the end of this season, I’ll either no longer be alone or no longer be lonely. And the One who fills that spot will be there either way.

But He also reminded me that there are a multitude of people, even just in this town, that don’t attend church for this very reason. People who don’t have a community yet. People who face the daunting prospect of walking into a place where they know no one. People who walk into an unfamiliar building just hoping that someone will be friendly and hospitable and welcoming.

He reminded me that today I had not been that person that He asked me to be. I was not welcoming. I was not hospitable. I was not friendly. I had curled into myself and pouted. Certainly, we are allowed to be human. And humans have feelings. But I chose to let my feelings lead me instead of making the choice to let Him have those feelings and put Him front and center for someone else who may have felt that singleness.

He was ever so gentle. I was ever so chastised.

Lord, help me be the person You have called me to be.

What are shoes?

What are shoes?

Psalm 68:19
Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation. Selah.

I woke up on Saturday, October 19th, ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

Maybe it was the stress of my life. Maybe I was just emotional. Who knows? But I was overwhelmed.

Still, it was Jesus Burger day and I was excited to share the Club 3D cards with our Jesus Burger Friends. Jesus Burger is a homeless outreach in our city. Cards from our kids church group, 1st through 6th grade, had been added to the hygiene bags that I go to hand out. They were so precious and I had prayed for the people to be blessed by the simple words of children.

I made it there just as the devotion was getting going, and the leader was saying that you couldn’t care where the people came from, what they looked like, how they talked. That none of that mattered because we were there to love them in the way that Jesus did. Now, I was already emotional, but I felt my heart just shredding at those words. I kept seeing those I had come in contact with in the past and my heart broke for all of them, one by one. Friends, do not pray “break my heart for what breaks Yours” unless you are prepared for the grief. I hurt the whole day. And while only a couple of hours was spent at Jesus Burger, the impact lasted ALL day. A week later and I was still raw. I can still, today, feel the shards of grief that are stuck like slivers in my heart.

Today Mr. Monte Wike spoke of the verse above in Psalms, how God daily loads us with benefits. But it’s like the manna from heaven for the Israelites. It is enough for the day, and yet renews each morning. All I could think was that I didn’t understand my emotions and that I didn’t even know what I needed and here’s Mr. Monte telling us that God gives us what we need-daily. Which is . . . Well, just simple minded, really. Of course God knows what I need, and daily – and it doesn’t matter if I know or not, He knows what I need.

I left the devotion thanking God that He takes care of my simple minded self and went to hand out hygiene bags. While handing out the bags, a lady approached. She is a regular there. Usually she comes with a friend, but today, she was alone. Someone asked about her friend who always comes with her and she said she had committed suicide. That was a stab through my heart.

A little bit after that a man came up and I cringed, spiritually, from him. I didn’t understand my reaction, so I pushed myself to talk to him. He was pleasant enough. But then the women started coming and it became very evident that he was their pimp. He, and his friend, avoided going anywhere near the pulpit and the singing/preaching. My spirit was angry. My heart hurt. And I was silenced by God.

A woman came up. She was wearing shoes that were 3 sizes too big. She asked for 8.5 sized shoes. There were none. My heart broke again. Jesus said “give her yours“. I argued. I didn’t have a spare set in my car. I have to go to work. I can’t go barefoot. “Give her yours“. And what am I supposed to do? “Give her yours“. I discreetly took my shoes off and said “hey, see if these will fit”. She was so excited. She tried them on. Next thing I know, she has them off, handed to a man, and is trying on another pair from . . . where? And she’s saying how God is so good as she’s walking away with the last pair on and my pair dangling from the hand of the man with her.

What the . . . But I can’t be mad. I just want to cry.

Because I don’t have it in me to be mad.

Because Jesus gave them away, not me.

Because my heart hurts.

Because God loads us daily with benefits.

Because another soul took her own life and what are shoes compared to that?

Because there are women slaved to prostitute, and what are shoes compared to that?

Because most of these I meet at Jesus Burger have no home, no washing machine, no electricity, no running water, no transportation.

And what are shoes, compared to that?