The small call

I think God is in the process of correcting my misconceptions about how He calls people to do His work. I tend to think that when God calls you, He does it BIG. He beckons you with a burning bush that doesn't catch fire. He passes by in a sound of sheer silence. He sends His angel to stop you from slitting the throat of your firstborn, long-awaited son.

I am now of the opinion that He sometimes whispers to you at six o'clock in the morning, after your baby has finally gone back after waking super early and you'd like to join him in slumber. Sometimes He spends weeks showing you sand in other people's eyes before He points out the plank in your own, then sets about letting you know how to proceed with removing it.

I've stated aloud to several of you that I'm not interested in heading or leading children's ministry but that I'm also unwilling to waste Gabriel's "sponge" years at a church that isn't providing spiritual lessons for him on his level. I've naturally assumed this must mean it's time for me to head em up and move em out. Well, maybe it is - but not yet. I can't keep ranting to my husband about how I think our church's focus needs to be on giving to our community rather than trying to get people to come. If we simply give what we can - individually and corporately - the getting will take care of itself.

"Well, Q," saith the Lord, "What have you done for the kids at church lately? If you're so angry about it, do something."

I argued for a little while, a la Moses' "Who am I..." speech. And who I am is someone who cares about the spiritual education of kids - not just my own. Thus, who I am is the one who's not going to give up on my church family without fighting to make it work. So reluctantly, like Esther, like Moses (thought albeit on a much smaller scale), I'll step into this role (for now, at least). And what were those famous, remarkably faith-establishing words Mordecai said to his young cousin Esther, "Who knows?"