Last week, my church hosted the African Children's Choir, a ministry that is near and dear to my heart. The choir comes to perform a 90 minute program, and in return, the church pulls together the many small details including school classrooms, host families, and meals.
I was asked to help with the details, which I gladly agreed to do. I have pulled out of most service at church lately, as I work through my resentments and gunk. But this I was more than happy to help with.
I gave a short announcement at church a month before the choir came, asking for volunteers in various capacities. The response was overwhelming.
Not only was every single volunteer slot filled, but I ended up with extras.
At the concert, it was standing room only. The offering was bountiful, to say the least. The church staff jumped in and helped with last minute details that came up. And when I asked if they could help me love on the chaperones, they didn't even flinch. They got a car for the day, and one of the pastors delivered a much needed devotions to them. A generous host opened his home so the chaperones could have a child free night filled with grilled steak and America's Funniest Home Videos.
I was overwhelmed by the love and generosity of my church.
Cynicism sweeps over me and carries away any grace or love I might have inside me. I angrily narrow my eyes at the committee decisions I don't agree with and cross my arms in front of me, refusing to allow anyone inside. I assume that the entire church world is out to get me.
I get bogged down in stupid things like music that I'm not fond of or sermons that don't fully engage me. I become so caught up in those silly details that I lose sight of the simple fact that my church is filled with some lovely people.
So, I am sincerely sorry for the judging that I do far too much. From here on out, I vow to do my best to drop my guard and let people in.
do my homework for me
And I hope the only crossing of my arms is from being chilly in church.