I gritted my teeth and prayed for patience to get through that Wednesday evening. I also prayed for several other Spirit fruits to invade me.
In an unprepared moment, I’d been asked to serve with the 3rd and 4th grade girls in our church’s mid-week children’s program and I regretted my lack of a handy excuse.
I did survive. Not just that night but the entire school year of Wednesdays. I had no passion for that ministry. I disliked the noise, chaos, confusion, noise, seeming disorganization, and above all, the noise. Two hundred laughing, screeching, chattering children set my teeth on edge.
At the end of the program year, I said goodbye with a great sigh of relief.
Funny though. All summer I kept remembering the fun I’d managed to have, in spite of the noise. By fall, I was ready again. And to my great surprise, that second year I actually enjoyed myself.
I liked interacting with the girls. It was fun to watch the organized chaos of game time and I loved seeing God’s word change lives.
I spent seven years serving. The girls I had in my groups are now grown, many of them with their own children. No one is more amazed than I, what God is able to accomplish when I come to Him on His terms, not leaning on my own strength, but completely dependent on Him.
Gal 6:9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest.