Wasting my life away

Wasting my life away

“Just before I said good-bye to Aunt Rachel after our last filming session, she grew uncharacteristically sentimental. ‘Isn’t it something,’ she asked, ‘that the Lord Jesus would have used someone like me to do His work in this special place? I was too old by the time I could apply for missionary service. I couldn’t help the Waodani much medically, I was not a Bible scholar, and I was never really a superior translator.’ I wondered why she was revealing her lack of qualifications for what she had spent half of her life doing.”

“ ‘Well, Aunt Rachel, why do you think God gave you this assignment? What do you think He saw in you that He could use?’ Her eyes brightened, and this eighty-two-year-old hero of mine responded with a formula for living: ‘Well, Stevie Boy, I loved the Lord Jesus with all my heart, and I trusted Him completely.’ She paused before continuing, ‘And I guess I just learned to persevere in whatever He gave me to do.’”

“Thank you, Aunt Rachel. Those words still rang in my ears as we headed back down to the jungle to do the seemingly impossible. Our mission seemed crazy, but I knew it really was not. I had business friends who were giving their lives to make money they would never get around to spending – money that might end up ruining their children’s lives. Aunt Rachel had ‘wasted’ half her life attempting to be an ambassador of heaven to ‘savages’ whom no one cared about. At the very end of her life, she looked back on her accomplishments as insignificant. She knew what I have just recently begun to realize: God doesn’t need us to do His work, or He wouldn’t be omnipotent. He wants our love and a relationship with us. It is about ‘being,’ not doing.’”
The End of the Spear by Steve Saint

Yesterday was a fairly unproductive day. Early morning I met and prayed with our elder. We had devotions as a family and prayed together before we all took off for work or school. I read at the elementary school. In the lounge I gave a listening ear to a teacher who continues to grieve the loss of her stillborn child. I met briefly with the young woman who is presently cleaning our church as a part of her community service. I fiddled with Facebook. I sat down with our accountant to finish off our tax return. I read my Bible. I journaled. I prayed. I made a few phone calls. I gave my son a ride home from high school. I took my daughter to her 4-H practice at the nursing home and watched her group perform. I wrote a new entry for my blog. I gave the invocation at a community gathering that lasted to well past 10 o’clock. I came home and climbed into bed. Such was my day.

If I belonged to a denomination who wanted stats to gauge my overall effectiveness, it might look like this for yesterday:
Salvations: 0
Healings: 0
Prayers: 2 (if you don’t count those I made with my family)
Study time: 0
Phone calls: 1 (if you don’t count the numerous ones from my wife and children)
If I had a “super”, he might accuse me of wasting a day. And given my mood yesterday, I probably would have concurred.

But early this morning as I was reading Steve Saint’s book I came across the passage and my perspective came back to level. I just so happened to major in relationships yesterday…visiting, listening, praying, sharing…essentially “just being there.” In fact, that 7 minute conversation in the teacher’s lounge at the elementary school may have been the most spiritual moments of my day as she allowed me to gently take her hand and speak prophetically into her life. If I hadn’t been there, that moment would have been missed. She has a pastor. She has a fellowship. But for that short sliver of time I was her Father-Confessor. “Thanks for being here and thanks for listening,” she said to me. “Absolutely,” I replied. “It’s what I do.”

Being a good and available parent is a good thing, too. And taking time for people is never a bad thing. I’m reminded today that God didn’t send me to “build his Church” here. He sent me to be a shepherd over a portion of it. It’s the only thing I’m really any good at anyway. So, here’s to “wasting” my time and my life in this little burb. I could do far, far worse and find myself “successful.” God forbid.