What If?

Photo courtesy of Google Images

My pants are too tight. I mean, like the part of my day I dread the most is getting dressed, too tight. For those of you who have kept up with me through my blog you know that I made some major diet changes over the last couple of years in order to alleviate some health problems. An awesome bonus of those changes was losing weight. I had even gotten into a smaller size than I was in high school. It made me happy, happy, happy. :)

Well, things changed. I stopped teaching dance six hours a week and started working a desk job that also made the whole healthy eating thing more of a challenge as it meant actually preparing things ahead of time, and come to find out, I stink at that. :) And holidays came. And went. And after eating horribly for 7 months suddenly-boom! My pants don't fit. Even my shirts started feeling tight. For a while I got away with the eating normal thing. I didn't gain weight right away. I even still felt okay. So, I kind of convinced myself my body was healed and I could eat M&M's on the way home from work everyday if I wanted to. 

Of course, all good things must come to an end. A couple of  months ago two of my co-workers told me that I looked like I was expecting. They said I had the glow. I know that was nice talk for "wow, your belly is growing".  There was a day and time when their comments would have led to a complete emotional breakdown when I got home (if I made it that far before the waterworks started). But you know what? It didn't really bother me. The truth is, yeah I have gained weight. I also have a medical condition that at certain times causes my belly to swell like I'm six months along carrying twins. It's not the most thrilling part of my life, but I realized it's also not the worst thing ever. In fact, my co-workers seemed as though they were being complimentary. Now, I do not particularly want to look pregnant (been there, done that, couldn't fit in the t-shirt), but for the first time, maybe ever, it dawned on me that perhaps gaining some weight was not the end of the world. 

And I began thinking, what if we were taught to see things differently in our culture? What if, instead of dreading pregnant and post-baby bodies, we celebrated them? What if we were taught that stretch marks and saggy skin and wider hips are awesome? Not because they are necessarily beautiful to look at, but just because it is amazing what those pregnant and post-baby bodies have done? What if younger girls looked at older women the way that older women look at younger women? With longing for a body different than their own. Even for those who have never experienced pregnancy, there are so many changes that happen. Lines that come from laughter. Hair that grays with experience. 

I once had a friend's mom tell me how you could always tell a woman's age by her hands because women are always dutiful to take care of their faces, but not so much their hands. I've always thought about that. And worried about it. I hate the way lotion feels on my hands and have always felt sure my hands will look 80 years old any day now. But with this new found outlook, I began to think about what that meant. I hope my hands age. I hope that they look like I've done something with them. Because despite what our culture would have us to think, we are not just here to be looked at. 

I recently discovered a website that says all of these things so much better than me. It is called Beauty Redefined and has many articles that discuss this very thing. The idea that beauty is not necessarily what we've been taught that it is. Do you know what one of the greatest things has been about my roller coaster weight journey? It has been the fact that I have finally been able to grasp the fact that I am the same person whether my clothes are a size 6 or a size 12. I prefer how I look at certain sizes better than others, but at the end of the day whatever size my body is, it is housing Emily. You see, it has just been in the last few months that it really dawned on me how much I placed my value in being a certain size or looking a certain way. Like so many, I had bought in to the idea that physical beauty is the only thing that matters about a person. Let's face it, we have that crammed down our throats all the time. Only the beautiful people get to be the lead characters in love stories. Beautiful people apparently get away with crimes because they're better looking. We hear that good looking people are more likely to get promotions. And the idea we internalize is that looks trump every other quality a person has and we only exist to be looked at. Can I tell you something as someone who has been with the same person for 15 years? You can only look at each other so much. :)

Sadly, generations upon generations have grown up thinking that being pretty is more important than being kind. That being skinny or curvy in all the right places is better than being smart. That having a tan beats out being funny. Good hair is way better than being honest. White teeth? Totally trumps talent. It sounds silly, but it's so ingrained in us that it's hard to grasp that it's not the truth. That people are important and valuable even if they could lose a few pounds or need braces. 

When I had lost so much weight I would get lots of compliments about my size. But over the last several months I've had several people compliment me and say, "You look good. You look so happy."   And, maybe those M&M's had something to do with it :), but I like to think that for once what was happening inside of me stood out more than what was going on physically. 

I think that is exactly what this verse is talking about:

³ Do not let your adornment be merely outward—arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel— ⁴ rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.

1Peter 3:3-4

What if?

What if, we spent as much time working on our minds, spirits, and the health of our bodies as we did on just appearing a certain way?

What if, we stopped talking negatively about ourselves and leading to more insecurity of those around us?

What if, we valued the bodies of those who have aged and experienced things we haven't?

What if, we devoted ourselves to growing and doing and serving instead of just appearing?

What if, we decided that if we are okay with ourselves it doesn't matter if anybody else is?

What if, we measured the impact our life has on someone else instead of our waist?

What if, we could learn to not only accept ourselves, but others as well?

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

1 Samuel 16:7

Eli the Great Turns 8!

Today is special, today is great;

today Joshua Eli turns 8!

He is sweet, he is kind;

since kindergarten he's only made straight A's because he has a great mind.

Legos, sharks, drawing and ball,

FSU and bikes; he loves them all.

Gentle and sensitive, tough and fast;

a smile and a heart that are made to last.

Competitive and hard-working, analytic and fun;

you love to run and run and run.

You're no longer a baby, you're a big kid now;

when I think of you all I think is "Wow!"

Today you are eight,

and everyday you are GREAT!! 

Photo courtesy of Photography by Jenny Johnson

Joshua Eli, there are no words for how proud you make me and your Daddy. From the moment you entered this world on 5/5/05 (my favorite number, btw), you've been a peaceful, sweet bringer of joy. I didn't know what it would be like to add another member to our family of 3; your sister was a little used to being the center of attention. :) But, like the rest of us, she adored you and you brought out the little Mama in her. You also bonded instantly with your Daddy. One of my most favorite memories in life is waking up from a nap not too long after you were born and seeing him with you in his arms. He had changed your clothes and made sure you had on a onesie with a sports theme. He has doted on you ever since and you are two peas in a pod. I am so thankful that you love your Daddy the way you do. You are going to be such a great man because you have his influence, and I will always feel close to your Daddy when I'm with you. Kate has given you the chance to be a big brother and you have excelled at that just like you do with everything. I know she drives you crazy sometimes, but trust me, she thinks the world of you. :)

You are an amazing little boy and I have watched you grow more this last year than any before. You became a follower of Jesus and overcame your fear of being baptized to be obedient to Him. You also have come such a long way in your fear of bad weather, and I am so proud of that because I know that it is no easy task overcoming fears, even for grown ups. 

You are SO smart and ask lots of questions that not only am I not smart enough to answer, I'm not even smart enough to ask. You keep me on my toes. Thank goodness for your Daddy and Google!! You are a thinker and an analyzer and a perfectionist. I'm afraid you got that very honestly. As I watch you beat yourself up over missing a ball or getting a 97 instead of a 100, I feel the need to apologize for the genes you inherited honestly from your Dad and I. And sometimes I want to cry with you. Because it's a personality trait that just stinks sometimes. But, I know God is going to use that drive that you have in a mighty way. Whatever you do, you do it all out! You do it with passion and determination and a desire to do it the best.

Sometimes, you are so smart and gentle and kind that it is easy to forget you are a little boy. Until I see the dirt on your neck and the holes in your jeans and step on Legos. And then I remember. :) And I thank God for giving me such a special little boy and letting me have a front row seat to watch as He grows a man of God right before my eyes. And maybe an FSU baseball player. :)

"And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him"

                                                             Colossians 3:17

Photo courtesy of Photography by Jenny Johnson

Baby Steps

In the center where I work, we have 3 classrooms. The toddlers are 2-3 years old, the mobiles are 1-2, and the babies. While I love reading and conversating with the toddlers, the baby room has been my favorite by far. It felt like such a gift that when I returned to work because my baby started kindergarten, I had a whole room of babies I could rock and hold and cuddle. Even better, I can hand them off to their teachers to get changed. I imagine that's what having a nanny would have been like. :)

The baby room is still my favorite. It has changed a good bit in the 6 months I've been here. Six months is like a lifetime in baby development time. It's gone from a room with sleeping babies to a mini zoo. I never know what will be going on in there, I just know to be prepared to catch a baby. I remember the days when my babies were the age that you never sat down because they never stopped. Now I am just experiencing it multiplied by 8. Bless it. 

They are SO busy. Busy sitting up. Busy crawling. Busy scooting. Busy pulling up. Busy cruising along the bookshelves. And busy falling. It is always like being in one of those slow motion movie scenes when you see a baby start to fall. You start to move to catch them, but your body morphs into slo-mo, yet somehow they quickly fall to the ground, usually making sure to bump their head on a hard surface nearby. I told the teachers we need to just move that class to the triage unit of the ER. They are an accident waiting to happen!!

Despite the anxiety caused by these new developments, it is so exciting to watch! It has always been so amazing to me how one day they just do something they've never done before. And it's really fun to watch their face when they realize they've done something they couldn't do before. Until they fall and cry of course. 

All of this change and busyness and excitement has made me think about the spiritual journey we take as Christians. Mostly it has made me think about how much we try to skip this phase. We decide to follow Jesus and expect that we will wake up the next morning and have it all together. I think we've all watched too many Disney movies and expect that some fairy is going to come sprinkle magic fairy dust and make us perfect. Except of course we learn, we don't believe in magic. :) And yet, we act like that is how God changes us. 

The truth is that the Holy Spirit moves in, but we have to decide to let it grow us. A baby starts crawling because it is the next step in his/her development. But it's not easy. There are days, weeks, even months when a baby struggles to get on all fours. Then, they bounce a while. They know they are supposed to be moving, but they just can't get it going. The truth is, we know that we are now supposed to be full of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control. And yet, just like a baby sometimes decides it is easier to cry and get picked up than to work on the crawling, we decide it is easier to follow our natural instincts. To be mean, cranky, stressed, impatient and out of control. It's what we know. 

We all face this struggle. The difference for us is that we are able to hide it. We are able to put on a smile when we're ready to bite somebody's head off. We learn to say the right things, even if they are not anywhere near how we feel. And I guess it makes us all feel better to get together and pretend that we're all good, but when we do that, we're missing out on growing. 

I like to imagine that if my babies could talk their conversation would go something like this: 

Baby 1: "Man this sitting up stuff is hard! I can do it, but then I just fall forward everytime!"

Baby2: "I know what ya mean. I've pulled up on that wooden kitchen set 4 times and I've fallen and knocked myself out every time. I think I have a concussion, man."

Baby 3: "I fell and hit the rocking chair and that crazy lady just watched me do it."

The point I'm trying to make (I really do usually have one, it just takes me a while to get there :), is that we should see our church family (all of the church, not just the ones in our building) as our buddies in the baby room. We are all working on things, things that are hard for us and things that we really mess up at sometimes. Sometimes it is painful and messy and not at all comfortable. We've not perfected anything yet. The key is that we are trying. I've yet to see a healthy baby with no developmental problems decide that they can't do the walking thing perfect yet, so they just won't try. It's just understood that they will fall, but then they will get back up.

What is also understood is that the parents and caregivers of those children do not expect perfection. In fact we cheer and applaud every attempt. And yet, as brothers and sisters in Christ, we are often waiting to attack each other and any attempt at growth. Without verbalizing it, we send the message loud and clear, "Come when you've figured it out. We don't really have time for your stumbling." We all know people who think that criticizing is their spiritual gift. It's not, y'all. We all have a responsibility to teach and admonish each other and that includes calling each other out on inappropriate behavior. But, we are to do that in love and by example. We are to do it because we want our brother or sister to go stronger in their walk, not because it makes us feel better about how weak ours is. 

Wherever we are in our walk, we are to keep getting stronger. If you are in the baby steps stage just struggling to get to your feet, keep trying. You will get there. If you are walking, but need more support than others, let people support you until you're strong enough to stand on your own. If you're moving slow, learn as much as you can along the way. If you're a strong walker, grab someone by the hand and help them along. No matter where we are we all have the same goal: to run.

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 

~Hebrews 12:1

When Somebody Sees

I had quite the day yesterday. My company sponsors an event every year and it is the biggest fundraiser we do. There are bouncy houses galore, and games and face painting and food and all things that make kids happy.

After I signed up to volunteer I got an e-mail asking how many hours I wanted to work and where I wanted to work. We get to flex our time so however many hours I volunteered I would get to take off the week before. I volunteered for all 6 hours. I also said I would work wherever they needed me. Big mistake.

I was told I was going to be at the food tent, but when I showed up yesterday morning I was told I would be at the soccer game. I headed out to find my spot and learned that at our game the kids would get 3 soccer balls to kick and a minute to see how many they could get in the goal. I started out with about 4 other people helping me and a couple of kids to help chase balls. We had it down to a science. One person to get names and phone numbers (it was a contest), one person to time, one person to take money and the rest of to chase the balls and get them back to the kids to see how many times they could kick it in that minute. We were having fun. We were all cheering and laughing and things were going great. Then, I learned that everybody else was leaving at 1:00. I was there until 4. I assumed someone else would be coming to help me. Eventually a teenager came and she sat in a chair and timed for me. While I took money, got people's names and numbers, lined up balls and chased and kicked and threw balls. At one point I wanted to text my supervisor and say, "I NEED HELP!!!" But, I didn't have time. By 2:30 I was wore.slap.out. I'm too out of shape for that much runnin', y'all. And bending over. Way more people were subjected to looking at my backside yesterday than should've been. 

Anyway, the crowd finally died down and there were just two siblings. Their mom asked me, "How are you doing?" It took a minute for it to register that she was talking to me, because for hours the only thing people had asked me was "How much?" or "Can I do it again?" or stuff like that. She then said, "I know you are tired, you've been doing this all day."  And at that moment it was like she had given me the most special gift. She saw me. Or had seen me. She had witnessed the physical bootcamp it had been for me all day and recognized that I was tired. I know that may seem very silly, and it really was no big deal. I had a lot of fun and got some much needed exercise and sun. I can barely walk today, but I know I will have good memories from yesterday. But in that moment, I was just tired. And somebody saw.

I share this because I know some people who are going through very trying circumstances right now. Real stuff, not what I experienced yesterday. The kind of trials that are scary and life changing and feel lonely. They mostly feel lonely. At times the hardest part of suffering is feeling so alone in it. Sometimes, you just need somebody to see. To recognize. To know. So that you know someone knows and cares.

I pray that we would all have our eyes opened to those who suffer in silence. But for those times when we fail, I pray that those who are suffering would know that we have a God who sees. 

¹³ Then she called the name of the Lord who spoke to her, You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees; for she said, “Have I also here seen Him who sees me?” 

~Genesis 16:13

Every Mile A Memory: An Ode to the Jeep

Something happened this week that I felt was blog worthy. We purchased a new vehicle. I feel that is blog worthy because those of you who have suffered through followed this blog for awhile  know that a great deal of my life has been spent in my Jeep. And a great many posts on this blog have been dedicated to me being broke down on the side of the road. Or in parking lots. Or drive thru's. Or everywhere. Let's just say, I've needed a new ride for awhile. We have so enjoyed not having car payments for a few years, but when I returned to work we knew it was time.

I have been so excited about a new vehicle, but as the time came near I noticed I became increasingly emotional. One night I asked Josh if he remembered the time I put the Jeep in reverse and then forgot and got out (that's a long story that I wrote about a LONG time ago on MySpace and I don't even remember how to get on there anymore...). Anyway, as I laughed about that experience Josh informed me that he thought I was going through separation anxiety over the Jeep. And, I realized he was right.

I'm not usually a "things" or "stuff" kind of person. There are very few material possessions I feel emotionally attached to. Turns out the Jeep is one of them. :)

Do y'all see that number? That's a lot of miles and memories. I took that pic at the car dealership. The last trip the Jeep took before it was replaced. And I was so proud it was able to make that trip. In the last couple of months we have traveled to Jacksonville, Orlando, and Birmingham for dance competitions and every time I've told Josh, "I'm pretty sure this is the last trip the Jeep is going to make. Like ever. For real." But it always made one more trip.

And that's what I love about that Jeep. It's perseverance. It's been through a lot. We've been through a lot. I've probably spent more time in it than I've spent at any other place or with any other people. It's been my constant companion through good times and bad. I've brought babies home from the hospital in it. I've ridden in funeral processions in it. I've laughed in it. I've cried in it. I'm not proud of it, but I've even had days where I've screamed in it. I've taken trips to visit favorite people and I've taken trips to make hard visits. We've moved in it. Several times.It's been my sanctuary at times when it is has been the only stinkin' place I could get a few minutes by myself. God has spoken to me in it.

It has repeatedly taken abuse as I've run over curbs, slammed on brakes, and pushed it further than I should have with the gas light on. It sports stains so old I couldn't tell you where they came from. I've changed the radio station so much that it is now so sensitive that if I hit a bump the station changes by itself. You always have to crank it 3 times to get it started. Always. If you have to wait in the drive-thru for more than 3.5 minutes you have to turn the heater on as high as it will go to cool off the engine. And when did I learn things like that? Well, let's just say I feel like I could be a mechanic after my years with the Jeep. :)

Dear Jeep, I hope you enjoy your retirement from the Fidler family. You've earned it! You have been so faithful, and even when you broke down you were dependable. I knew exactly what was going on. We're alike in that way. We frequently break down, but it's always the same issues. :) Thanks for hangin' in there. And for 327,904 miles worth of memories!

P.S. I'm going to miss getting love letters like this one. :)

For those of you who might be immobilized in a full body cast and have nothing to do this weekend, I've included some links to some of my favorite Jeep stories. :)

http://www.encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2008/10/parsley.html

http://www.encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2009/10/smashing-pumpkins.html

http://www.encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2009/05/therell-be-days-like-this.html

http://www.encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2011/11/tired.html

http://www.encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2011/07/this-is-why-we-have-no-social-life.html

http://www.encouragementfromemily.blogspot.com/2011/01/you-do-hokie-pokie-and-you-hope-jeep.html

Sometimes You Need to Cry

I like to laugh. I use smiley faces way too much. It is easier for me to be funny and make jokes than to be serious. In fact, I get down right nervous when things start getting too serious. My brain says, 'Quick! Make a joke. Lighten the mood! Stuff's gettin' real up in here.'

And sometimes "stuff" is uncomfortable. I have come to realize that we live in a society of extremes. We fluctuate between feeling sorry for ourselves because our internet is down and posting obnoxious amounts of quotes and statuses on Facebook trying to convince everyone else (and ourselves) that everything is just peachy and we should all hold hands and sing Kumbaya. 

This is on my mind because I've spent a good deal of my life telling myself to "suck it up buttercup". That's a saying I learned from my friends Donna and Raquel, and while we always used it jokingly, I've realized that it's become part of my internal dialogue. I often tell myself that whatever I'm feeling is not important or that somebody else has it way worse. Last night I read some words that I knew I needed to read. "Deal with your feelings before they deal with you."

Many times I find myself frustrated with my own emotions. How can I ever feel sad when my life is so good? What do I have to really feel down/angry/frustrated with? The truth is that I logically know how blessed I am and how amazing my life is. But the reality is also that I am human and unfortunately at times find myself ruled by emotions that are as ever changing as the weather. This isn't as much a problem for me now as it has been in the past, but I constantly have to work on dealing with my emotions versus stuffing them. 

When I went through my depression I was put on a medication that made me numb. I'm talking zombieland. I will never forget going to the movies with Josh one night and watching 2 little girls. One of the girls had Down's Syndrome and it moved me to tears to watch the kindness and gentleness the other little girl showed her. I have never forgotten that, because it was the first time in a very long time that I felt anything.

Recovering from that depression I have constantly struggled with feeling that it is wrong for me to ever have a down day. I am supposed to rejoice in all things, right? I know how quickly I can slip into a pit and so the slightest not so great feelings leave me desperately clawing my way out as fast as possible.

I share this because I had a moment (or 80) last week. I was just down. It was after a tour of an organization in our community that exists to help abused children that God really dealt with me. I had just walked through a beautiful building that existed for such an ugly reason. Bright, colorful rooms decorated like a child's dream, but their purpose was anything but bright. A kid's court to practice being in the courtroom. Observation rooms where they are interviewed  and asked questions nobody wants to ask. Exam rooms where the stuff of nightmares exist. I found myself crying and yet trying to pull myself together before I got back to work. (Thank goodness for long drives!) And I felt like God told me, "Sometimes you need to cry." Let's face it, there are plenty of things to be happy about in life. God is good and He blesses more than we deserve. There are times to suck it up. Really, there are. :)  But there are other times when things that happen in this broken, cursed world break the heart of God, and it should break ours, too. 

I'm not saying that we all rend our garments and pour ashes on our heads. I also am not suggesting that we take on the role of Eeyore or a prophet or doom. I'm just saying that there is a time to cry. And God hears.

"Nevertheless he regarded their affliction, when he heard their cry"

                                                                   ~Psalm 106:44

Space

The weekend before last Sarah and I were in Orlando for a dance competition. Our hotel was attached to the Orlando International Airport and I spent two full days wandering around that airport killing time while my girl learned dance from people named Casper and Tokyo. That's a blog in itself, but while I was browsing the NASA store housed in the airport I came across a shirt that cracked me up. Because it is SO me.

http://www.thespaceshop.com/inemysptsubl.html

I do  need space y'all. I am one of those people who loves to be around other people and talk and visit and have fun. And then go  home and spend like 16 hours reading or thinking or staring at a wall. It's just how I'm made. I have to digest and analyze and work through all of that social interaction.

Well, in the last couple of weeks my schedule has been heavy on the social side, lacking in the time to breathe and think side. And when I say "social" it's probably not what a lot of you would consider social time. It's ministry time. It's people stopping by our house, phone calls or church activities. I have to be honest that sometimes I feel overwhelmed. Sometimes my very human nature gets tired and whiny and tells my husband that he chose the wrong wife. I'm not cut out to be a preacher's wife. I'm all wrong. I'm not outgoing enough. I get tired and sick too easily. I'm not a "planner" or an "organizer". Seriously, I feel that way 97.3% of the time. I don't doubt for a second that Josh is called to be a preacher, but sometimes I truly wonder if we could rent someone to stand in as the preacher's wife. Someone who specializes in all of the things I feel that I'm lacking. I know. I'm crazy.

Mostly, I'm just tired. I've just accepted that being tired is going to be par for the course for me. And sometimes it seems that when I am the most tired, God has the most for us to do in our ministry. Let me stop here and tell you what I consider "ministry".  I am not an event planning, committee leading kinda gal. For me ministry is listening to stories of broken hearts, meeting physical needs when we can, loving on kids who need some love and sharing what Jesus has done for me. And sometimes those things are really, really hard to do when your mind and body are screaming "I need a break!"

Lately our house feels like it has become Grand Central Station. We live in the parking lot of the church, so people know how to find us. It has been my prayer that God would grow my heart in the area of hospitality and let me tell you, He's tried to give me lots of practice. :)  He has really worked on teaching me that hospitality has a lot more to do with my heart than how clean my house is, and I have tried to embrace that. Really, I have. Even when my husband texts me at work to tell me that people stopped by the house to talk to him and I come home and my underwear is in the laundry pile on the couch. It's a little ministry tool we use to get people to confess called "Airing our dirty laundry". JUST KIDDING! It's really called "The Preacher's Wife can't get it together to put the laundry away before work". I think we will begin drills in our house to practice throwing the laundry in a bedroom and shutting the door as fast as possible when the doorbell rings. That's a skill all children should be taught, right? 

Anyway, back to the point of this. There is a point. And it's not to whine or complain or make people not want to come to my house. The point of this is that as He always does, God reminded me of how He would handle a situation based on His Word. I actually had this revelation several years ago when we first went into ministry. Josh was preaching about the feeding of the 5,000, but as he moved on to share that miracle, I could not get past the beginning of that passage. You see, often we overlook what happened before that massive, impromptu dinner party. Before that the disciples had been out witnessing and ministering. God was doing amazing things in their lives and other people's lives through them. 

³⁰ Then the apostles gathered to Jesus and told Him all things, both what they had done and what they had taught. 

                                                                                                       Mark 6:30

Now, in the midst of doing awesome, exciting things you would think Jesus would want them to keep going and sharing, right? But Jesus said, 

³¹ And He said to them, “Come aside by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” For there were many coming and going, and they did not even have time to eat. ³² So they departed to a deserted place in the boat by themselves.

                                                                  Mark 6:31-32

I'm telling you, the more I know about Jesus the more I love Him. He's my kind of guy. He knew they needed some space. Some unwinding time. Some food!

But then, something happened. Something that reminded the disciples that while they were all still very human and had the same basic needs and desires, their calling was a higher one. One that would often require sacrifice.

³³ But the multitudes^[a] saw them departing, and many knew Him and ran there on foot from all the cities. They arrived before them and came together to Him. 

                                                                     Mark 6:33

There are a lot of things in ministry that can wait. We make a mistake when we burn ourselves out doing things that are not that important in the grand scheme of things. BUT.....when people are running after Jesus, that is important stuff. 

If you skip ahead you see that the disciples reacted a lot like the way I am prone to when ministry presents itself at inopportune times. 

³⁵ When the day was now far spent, His disciples came to Him and said, “This is a deserted place, and already the hour is late. ³⁶ Send them away, that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy themselves bread;^[b] for they have nothing to eat.”

                                                                    Mark 6:35-36

I don't want to put words in the disciple's mouths or thoughts in their heads, but I find myself wondering if they were feeling extra human that night. If their first thought was, "Good grief, I just wanted to eat supper in peace and lay on the couch tonight." Okay, so I don't think they had couches, but you know what I mean? Did they have the panic moment of, "Oh no! I haven't been to the grocery store. All I can offer somebody is a pb&j or a can of pinto beans." It's a bad feeling y'all.

But, if we back up to the moment before the disciples freak out (I'm assuming), we see how Jesus responded, even when He was just as tired and weary as the rest of the group. This verse has completely changed ministry for me.

³⁴ And Jesus, when He came out, saw a great multitude and was moved with compassion for them, because they were like sheep not having a shepherd. So He began to teach them many things.

                                                                                 Mark 6:34

Did you catch the reason why Jesus reached out to the crowd? Because people were going to talk bad about Him if he didn't? No. Because He wouldn't go to Heaven if He didn't? No. Because He had bad boundaries and just didn't know when to say no? No.  We are told that He was moved with compassion for those people. What an amazing Savior I serve. 

There are different reasons to do ministry. For the power and authority. For the money (all you preacher's out there quit laughing!). For the attention. For the earthly or heavenly rewards you anticipate. But at the end of the day, the only kind of ministry that will please Jesus and change lives is the kind that is motivated by compassion. The kind of compassion that moves us off the couch and into the lives of people. The kind that when those people come to our couch moves us from frustration and fatigue to caring and kindness. Compassion takes us from the place of needing more space to needing more Spirit. 

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

                                                             2 Corinthians 12:9