Bikes and Bubbles

So, I've been on this blog 5 times trying to update you all on our lives... I actually have a post written, and probably finished, but I never edited it, or published it. I don't know why. I do often struggle with feeling as if the un-excitement in my life is going to be completely boring to you... but I think I'm ready to be honest now. I actually learned a lesson. Or, rather, recognized the lesson I was supposed to learn...

Let me tell you something about me. I am selfish, greedy... sinful. I waver back and forth between being content with what the Lord has blessed me with, and (probably more often than not) wishing... begging... sobbing... whining.... for more, more, more. I expect the things that I've planned for to come to fruition, and when The Sovereign chooses something different for me it leaves me sullen and rather two-year-oldish. This is something that happens routinely, and I've recently happened into this behavior (again). I was busy looking for all of the things that I did not have, and trying very, very hard to ignore all of the blessings that have been heaped upon me.

Well, this weekend was a barbecue. It was a barbecue in an apartment complex that someone in our church has been working with. He and some others go every week to bring bikes to the children that live in these apartments. They take bicycle donations, (or bikes they have bought, secondhand) and go to the complex and fix the bikes, and give them to the children. By the time the next week comes, the bikes have been stolen, and they bring more to fix, and give. Give... give, give. These wonderful people give their time, money, talent... LOVE... it really rocks me to my very core, how much sacrifice it takes to be so faithful in ministry, and these examples... these saints don't even notice.

In any case... did I mention that the children (and families) they are serving are primarily refugees? And... anyways... the barbecue. They needed some volunteers to help with set up, or clean up, or to just bring food. Maybe to just show up... so I signed up. Once I had committed myself to being there of course I started making excuses. I had to bring my own kids. (How could I watch them AND help?) It was hot. (I AM 6 months pregnant... that couldn't be good for me.) I will be too tired to get the kiddos into bed afterwards, plus it will be past bed time. (We all need our rest, to stay healthy.) Peter is closing at work. (He NEEDS the car. I mean, its not safe to ride his bike in the dark, at midnight.) I could go on forever. But mostly, do you know what I allowed myself to do? I began insulting myself. I told myself a lie... "You are useless, and you are one person. Nobody will notice if you are not there, and you could just not go, and not be missed. You are better off not offending anyone by showing up and standing around." It was terrible. For a whole week I struggled with this, and finally sent the nasty April on her way... (I won't repeat the words I used, but I can say they weren't religious...) When the time came for me and the kids to load into the van I was very, very close to one of those panic attacks I may have mentioned before. We took some bubbles. ("What good are bubbles for a bunch of kids who probably don't even have food, or clothes?") And a couple bags of chips. ("My lone contribution... just so people like me could feel useful.") It was a terrifying 15 minutes of driving.

When we got there the process of set up was just starting. I had parked in a different parking lot than the rest, and had arrived slightly early... (But I had a unique vantage point, and I will tell you that I have never wanted a camera more than at this very moment...) A large pickup truck overflowing with bikes pulled up. ALL of the kids... from 3 years old to teenager... stopped what they were doing. It was like a huge communal breath was being held. They all stood motionless... they looked like a herd of elk sniffing the air for danger... And then the primary person involved in this ministry came into the courtyard, and like one body they all ran towards him, and stopped. They were quiet, and still... anticipating... waiting. It felt as if there was some sort of electricity moving through them all. I swear that at that moment I was transported to when Jesus walked this earth and said "let the children come to me"... And I realized that to some, we Christians are the only Jesus anyone will ever know. I've heard many people say that, but to actually see it was... I was speechless, and still lack words to describe the feeling I had. At this moment there are tears pouring down my face.

Someone said "WHERE'S THE BIKES!!!" and he teased them and smiled and said "What bikes? I don't know what you're talking about..." It was precious. By the time the other folks had finished unloading EVERYTHING they needed (tables, chairs, bikes, food, etc...) I had managed to unload my bubbles and a few other minor things... So much for the pregnant whale helping... And I opened the bin that held the things I brought to share and gave some bubbles to my kids, that way it would attract the attention of the rest of the sweet babies to what I had. Oh, my... I have never seen a crowd form so fast, and I have never seen so many desperate faces longing for something as silly as bubbles... and the great many pairs of dirty hands grabbing at sidewalk chalk... skip-its... and even a small plastic bowling set... even some parents came and very nearly begged me to give them the first container. Just so that their baby could have this privilege. I mean, these are things that I feel like my children deserve... these are things that I feel obligated to purchase for them every summer. It wouldn't be summer without sidewalk chalk and bubbles.... but these kids didn't have them.  And they were desperate for them. Some of them were wearing clothes that were 2 sizes too small, and I can't even imagine that the apartments they were living in were "up to code." My horrible attitude was slapped right out of me... Will it come back? Oh yes... it will. It is in my nature. The nature I, and all the rest of us are trying to rid ourselves of...

I think the lesson I learned is fairly obvious, and somewhat elementary. But I suppose sometimes even those of us "mature" (HA!) Little Christs need to be reminded of it. And with that, I will leave you with one of my very favorite bible verses. It comes from the book of Acts, chapter 3, verses 1-10. Maybe I've shared this particular passage before... its important to me, because of my struggle with feeling inferior, and incapable. I am "only" a stay at home mom... my worth in this world is not great, and I am often looked down upon because of my low position... I feel like I am in the way when I go places, and it is difficult for me to accept that I can't get everything on my to-do list done in one day. Above all of that, despite the job that my husband works (sometimes a great many hours) we are still well below the poverty guidelines that the government has set. When my heart is right, I don't EVER think that I am missing out... but when I forget that I've been bought at the greatest price that could ever be set, I do indeed feel the "poverty." So... here is the passage.... slightly paraphrased.  "One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer. A man crippled from birth was being carried to the temple gate, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John, Then Peter said "Look at us!" (I can imagine the shame this man must have felt... to be incapable of looking at the people he was begging from.) So the man did as they said, expecting to get something. Then Peter said "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk!" Then Peter helped him up, and the man's feet and ankles became strong, and he went with them into the temple courts, walking, and jumping, and praising God!" This man, too ashamed to even look at the people walking past him, began to jump, and shout, and praise God! He was no longer ashamed... and so, I have Jesus... and I can give Jesus to anybody who is lacking this gift. I don't have any reason to be ashamed, or to feel inferior. If I can bring the love of my Christ to somebody who has none... well, then, I don't need silver, or gold... sometimes bikes and bubbles is all it takes.