We were just trying to leave the store! It’s hard enough leaving anywhere with three children in tow, but make the place you’re leaving a toy store, and it’s near impossible.
After unsuccessfully trying to subdue a squirming one year old amongst all the colors and sounds, I had finally admitted defeat and set her down to toddle towards a display of stuffed monsters. As my husband tried to get my attention from his perch at the check-our counter across the store, using spousal sign language to alert me to the need for my cash cache, the baby toppled a display of stuffed friends all over the floor and herself.
She was extremely pleased that it was working out as she planned. I tried to snap out of my trance, no doubt exhausted from the full day thus far of dragging little Duracell bunnies through the mall. Their ability to talk non-stop about absolutely nothing was only rivaled by their insistence to desire an overpriced drink from a mid-mall kiosk, then only take two sips before asking me to hold it.
As I scooped up the tiny, toy terrorist from the graveyard of defeated play monsters, and stationed her on my hip, I headed towards the cashier with my purse and waiting groom.
He was laughing jovially, having struck up a conversation with the formerly sour, older woman who now beamed like a high-powered spotlight. She giggled at his joke, and smiled politely at me as I joined them.
He was always doing this! I was a struggling introvert, and his insistence to speak personally with every single person on the planet was always a little awkward for me. I had really been trying hard over the last few years to step out of my comfort zone and be friendlier, but it was still an ongoing mission.
As we walked out the door he grinned at the cashier, and anyone else in his view, and bellowed, “Y’all have a Happy New Year!”
And that’s my husband. That’s the man I lay down with every night, and wake up to every morning. A hairy Mr. Rogers. Mr. Nice Guy. Everyone’s best friend. Even when we were young I can recall how people gravitated towards him, his kindness, his unwavering acceptance of any kind of person who came his way.
There was a part of me that was always a tad bit jealous, wondering how it came so easy for him to make friends, and why I felt so uncomfortable when I tried. Over time I came to understand that this was his gift. He had the uncanny ability to love others and show a Kingdom mentality by doing it.
Later as we were headed home in the van, all three girls slept and we took the well-needed, and sure to be short-lived quiet time as our own special present. We unwrapped the silence and conversed like husband and wife are intended: without interruption.
He took the time to tell me about a funny google search he had found. It was the Urban Dictionary’s definition of “preach.”
As we laughed together he pointed out the fact that he really liked it actually. He was in favor of it stating “to give encouragement,” realizing that often times the word “preach” takes on a different meaning to people, such as in this dictionary’s definition.
People will hone in on the words “urging acceptance and compliance” and “in a tedious manner.”
No one is fond of preaching when it comes as a hammer of obedience instead of a hand of love.
I recently heard a preacher say he hated it when people found out his occupation because at that point they put on a mask and attempted to change or confine their behavior while in his presence. They feared his judgement instead of simply enjoying his presence.
When we are called to be “fishers of men” and “go out and preach the gospel” perhaps we should focus a little more on the “giving encouragement” and a little less on the “urging compliance.”
God will convict hearts and lead them to repentance. Then some instruction will be welcomed, but until that time maybe a hug is needed more. Maybe a smile, and a friendly word draws someone into the fold more readily than a fiery word of correction.
Don’t get me wrong now. Preaching is good. Biblical instruction is awesome. Morality is paramount.
But without love, what are these things anyway? Without love and kindness and goodwill, won’t it fall on deaf ears?
Maybe our ministry calling isn’t just a career in the church, a Bible study, or outreach mission trip. Those are great, but maybe our ministry calling is in the everyday.
Maybe it’s in how you wave cheerfully to the mailman even as he holds you up while you’re late for work.
Maybe it’s in the walk back into the store to give back the extra change you were mistakenly given.
Maybe it’s in a hug to a crying friend who is going through a divorce. A shoulder to cry on, and an ear to listen, without condemnation or advice of any kind.
Maybe your ministry is in how you react and interact with people on a daily basis, giving love, encouragement, and your time with a smile.
Maybe that’s where it starts.
That is all 🙂
Kristen lothenore says
Very well spoken. Awesome 🙂
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you 🙂
Meg says
Great blog post!!!
Would you be interested in writing a Foodie Friday post for us over at the Mississippi Women Bloggers site? We would LOVE to feature you!! If so, shoot me an email at megjones27 at gmail.com
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you 🙂
I could come up with something I’m pretty sure. I’ll get something to you.