Called

We are all called.  Whether or not we answer the call is another subject altogether.  We talk and pray and wait for an answer.  How often do we get an answer, but we aren’t listening.  In the past, I have listened and I have heard and I have ignored.  I have prayed for changes, prayed for peace, prayed for healing for others.  I have been called to work for God, to serve Him.  I know how, and right now I know where, but the question is whether or not I will serve elsewhere, in a larger capacity… I think so.  I have asked and prayed and pleaded for a love to come into my life.  A love that would also live for Him, serve Him, a love that I would be able to love and serve as we serve Him together… so far nothing, but a wait… it’s an answer, but at the age of 29 (well, 29 in a day), wait is not the answer I’m looking for.  I must first learn to be obedient to Him, learn to be obedient to God, the Father… the Father, I have in the past been so quick to disobey, quick to ignore, quick to walk away from.  The answer I’ve been waiting for… wait and learn obedience and then perhaps.  *Sigh*  So I teach to pass the time, I change programs at the church for the kids, I start new studies for kids with a friend.  I write, I work, I cry, I pray.  Obedience and patience… never my two strong points.  So I take walks and talk with God, I take walks and think through life, I send messages to my dearest Melissa friend, I have breakfast with my Sarah friend and I wait… Obedience and patience, obedience and patience, obedience and patience… it becomes my mantra.  I’m held here in limbo, as my Melissa friend (http://onbruisedknees.wordpress.com/) recently said, I’m somewhere and nowhere all at the same time, waiting… I’m called to serve, to teach, I’m told to wait… Obedience and patience, Obedience and patience… and all I can do is repeat the phrase and walk by faith.

They Save Me

I worked my way up to Kids Worship.  I started teaching 2’s & 3’s on Sunday nights and helping in the nursery.  I was asked to be a crew leader and said yes which then turned into being a teacher.  I love my kids… all my kids.  So now, one Sunday a month I walk into a room that both breaks my heart and saves me all at the same time.  I am a teacher for the 1^st & 2^nd graders in Kids Worship; I’ve been a crew leader for the 3^rd & 4^th graders.  These kids are my kids.  One Sunday a month I get hugged, called Miss Jennifer and hope to teach them something worthwhile… hope they walk out of there knowing a little more than when they left.  I will tell anyone who will listen that Kids Worship is my favorite thing to help with at church.  That the kids will often teach you more than you teach them.  I pour my heart into those kids because they are the future and they deserve to have people who truly care pushing them.

Five months ago when I went to Lesa with the news I was pregnant I went fully expecting to be taken out of Kids Worship.  I was going to leave my kids to someone else; I wasn’t the example they needed.  I had a miscarriage and I have continued to teach my kids, to share in their lives.  I still think there are better examples that could be helping mold the future of our church.  Five months ago, the thing I love the most about serving at LPCC became one of the most difficult things I ever had to do.  But those kids… my kids… have saved me so many times.

The closer May gets the more I think about the child I’ll never hold.  The closer May gets, the tighter I hug my sweet, sweet kids one Sunday morning a month.  They have no idea that they save me with every hug, with every smile, with every picture drawn on a sticky note.  My heart breaks at times when I walk into that room full of 1^st-4^th graders most of them I’ve taught or been around for years and watched grow up.  I’d be lying if I said there aren’t days that I dread walking into Kids Worship, because there are.  Some days I’m not sure I can take another reminder of what I lost; but I walk in that room to hugs and those kids hollering Miss Jennifer and I know I’m where I’m meant to be even though it hurts.  I push the hurt back and the laughs and hugs save me all over again.  If it weren’t for those kids, I wouldn’t have made myself walk into church some weeks.  It’s gotten easier… and more difficult all at the same time.  When I think of the child I lost, I try to remember all of the kids I have to hug on and laugh with on Sundays… and they save me one more time.

After five months I wish I could say it’s easier, it’s not… they save me.  After having a dear friend lose her child just weeks before her scheduled C-section… they save me.  I hear about old high school friends losing their babies… they save me.  Kids Worship is still my favorite part of serving at LPCC, some months are more difficult than others, but if it weren’t for those kids I can’t be sure that I wouldn’t have given up on God completely.  And looking at the journey to where I stand today, I am oh so blessed to be a part of that program and so thankful to the kids who have no idea what they have done for me…so grateful they save me.