I didn’t want to show up this last Sunday morning. We’d had a
late night (getting to bed at 11 is late, right?). I almost texted
my director that I wouldn’t make it, but I didn’t. Then I woke up
in the morning and repeatedly hit the snooze alarm. I almost texted
my director that I wouldn’t make it, but again I didn’t.
I drug myself out of bed finally, threw on clothes, and swung by
Starbucks. The line was long but I didn’t care. It’d be okay if I
was a little late. And I was.
There were two teachers in the room already, surrounded by happy
2 year olds. They probably really didn’t need me this morning, I
complained inside. Then Carson ran up to me with a toy and his
cowboy boots that lit up. A hug from this sweet little boy reminded
me why I was there.
Against the window, Martha sat with a little guy sobbing in her
lap. He’d been in our class two weeks ago and cried the entire
time. I figured we were in for the same again. But he saw me and
toddled over with a pacifier planted in his mouth and tears
streaming down his face. He plopped down in my lap. I wrapped my
arms around him and could feel his little heart beating out of his
Either this stopped or we’d call his mom soon. So I took him out
of the room (where we have floaters in the hallway). He wanted his
mom and pointed to the parking lot because he thought she was out
there. I walked him to the sanctuary to show him where his mom was.
He calmed down. Until we came back and he realized I wasn’t taking
him to her.
We sat on a bench outside our room because when we went in, his
heart pounded and he sobbed. Our director said it was okay to stay
out because of our hallway floaters. One of them got us a few books
so we read on the bench. And he continued to ask for his mom–but
no more crying.
Soon a 3 year old joined us on the bench. He wanted his mom too.
So I read to him.
Our sweet floater got coloring pages, crayons, and toys. So we
set up a little classroom in the hallway. We read, played, colored,
fretted, walked, and finally sang “Jesus Loves Me.”
When the two moms came to pick up their sweet children, the boys
were elated to leave. The older one happily showed his mom the page
he’d colored, and my little one just clung to his mom.
I told her how we’d spent the hour (not mentioning that I’d
checked the clock every 5 minutes!). I explained that he was making
progress and we’d keep working on it. She was grateful and
Who knows what God wanted to do in these two moms’ lives and
hearts while we spent the morning in the hallway. Who knows what
might not have happened if I’d given into my feelings and just
stayed home that morning.
I’m so grateful I showed up to volunteer in our children’s
ministry that morning–for those two little boys and for their
moms. God helped me see that my little acts of service really do
matter and that I need to keep showing up even when I don’t feel