I haven't posted for many months and many reasons. For half the year, I kept a separate, more public blog about my experience with cancer, here. After that, I began experimenting with writing fiction, which was enough of a creative outlet that I had no incentive to blog.
But this week I learned something yesterday that restored my urge to write, but in a more private setting. Hence, a return to this anonymous blog. In fact, my topic is directly related to my last post, which is neat (neat, as in "tidy" and as in "cool").
First some background: For the last four years, we have attended a large church, full of vibrant faith and families and missions and programs. This church has been a tremendous blessing to us, and we are certain that this is where we belong right now. Prior to that, we attended a small, local church within walking distance of our home. That church was like a family to us, sometimes dysfunctional but always loving. We poured much of ourselves into that church, and we still are a part of its community and grateful for our friendships there.
Five years ago, my husband and I were in mental and spiritual turmoil about our role in that little church. We were drained from being over-involved and under-fed. Husband started each Sunday morning by turning on the heat, making the coffee, and teaching middle school Sunday school, if any kids showed up. I was on the church board, co-taught the children's music, and was trying to start a youth group or kid's clubs or other ministry for the young members of the church before they grew up and drifted away. As a member of the church board, I had an insider's look at the dramas of the congregation, the need for serious building repairs, the shortage of funds, the lack of cohesive vision, and trouble in the denomination. We left the church, feeling guilty that we were "giving up" and disheartened that no amount of time and energy and funding we had contributed had seemed to make a difference.
This week I received that little local church's email of prayer requests. It reported that a gentleman had stood before the congregation and given his testimony about how his life has been turned around. He expressed his appreciation for the support the church had given him through rough times. He had been homeless and an alcoholic. At his lowest point five years ago, he was sleeping in the church's unlocked, decrepit garage. He mentioned that, one especially cold winter night, someone in the congregation had left a sleeping bag in the garage for him.
Can you guess who left him that sleeping bag? It was a minor act of kindness with no expectation of a return, like the anonymous innkeeper in Luke 2 just trying to be humane but in actuality making a difference. The garage was dark and cold and showed no signs of habitation, so there was no way of knowing whether the sleeping bag reached its desired recipient or was removed by a church member on a cleaning spree. I had forgotten about it completely until seeing yesterday's email.
I feel so revived by this knowledge, knowledge that I could be a blessing to someone in a quiet and anonymous way! It's as if I've been given a God's Eye View of life on earth: the way He acts through us and interconnects us; the way He lets us serve Him by serving each other; the way He uses us despite our imperfections and despite what a better job He could do by coming down and doing it Himself. As ineffective as I felt on the church council, I now see one concrete way God used me there: I would not have known of this gentleman and his sleeping quarters if I hadn't been on the council. I am grateful for this glimpse of the Kingdom of God on earth and I am fed with the knowledge that God is always at work behind the scenes of our ineffective-seeming lives. To God be the glory! May I be always on the lookout for opportunities to bring God's Kingdom to this earth and may I act humbly and boldly and without the need to be rewarded by acknowledgement or by visible returns.
