Come, Hear, Do…A Response

March 20, 2013 § 4 Comments

Mixed media by Tatum Hart

Mixed media by Tatum Hart

Rarely do I act on my desire to thank those who have invested in me – especially the women.

I remind myself to say the names of the women who have prayed for me: Mom, Krista, Linda, Heather, Nancy, Mary, Monica, Laura, Donna, Vickie. And those are just the names I remember by specific accounts and do not include those who have prayed when I wasn’t around nor the women who’s faces I remember.

My church attendance can be pretty sporadic and because I am an introvert by nature with a distant disposition, that is, I will only take part in social activities if I can secure a quick escape, my investment in people at church doesn’t compare to the church’s investment in me.

But there are times when I lay aside what I am by nature and do what I am in Christ. In truth, I am always thankful, but letting someone know is that extra step I don’t always take.

The issue is that I don’t want to assume someone cares. And I don’t want to give myself any more credit for caring than I deserve.

I mean, who, besides those closest to me, and I’m talking immediate family, really cares about me or this blog or the people I love? And who, to be honest, do I really care about beyond my family? If I’m loving according to that thought process, then maybe I don’t know Christ as well as I think I do.

What I’ve found, however, is that people do care. And so do I.

One of the women from my church had a birthday last week. I was invited but I didn’t attend.

I knew I wanted to take that opportunity to thank her for bearing with me as I carried on and on about the woes of disconnectedness at her kitchen table one warm afternoon, for showing up to my fourth day speech, for her tears when I was pregnant the first time but miscarried and finally for her prayers when I was pregnant with Lily.

I showed up to church this past Sunday morning in hopes to catch her before the service began because I didn’t intend to stay. In the time I waited for her to arrive I connected with worship leader, Chris Carder, dirty handswho ate my donut because I wouldn’t since I forgot to wash my hands before I picked it up, thereby, releasing me to get another one.

I got a pat on the back and a smile from Terry who has supported me in this blog since I started, and then with Rich, the Associate Pastor with his own blog, The Cornfed Pastor, who handed me a copy of a word he hadn’t posted yet, which is what prompted me to write this one, because “a true disciple of Christ does something.”

God is so patient and so gracious, meeting me where I am time after time. Knowing I wouldn’t stay for the service, he sent me home with a word anyway. Their kind faces and brotherly gestures are burned into my memory. I go to give a modest gift and to thank someone for their service to me and I’m the one who went home with the reward.

In the process of writing this post, another subject began to bloom in its midst about how God shows up to meet needs I don’t even know I have until he tells me about them. But I don’t want to exhaust this post – I’ve already exceeded five hundred words which I’ve decided is too much for one entry. However, I would like to hear from folks about when they’ve been confronted by God so write me a little something, would you? More later.

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§ 4 Responses to Come, Hear, Do…A Response

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