This week I haven’t been playing with kids (a 3 year old punched me in the head though, that was fun). I haven’t been evangelizing to cabin restaurant workers, and I haven’t been praying over the Untouchables.
This week I have been painting a pastor’s house. Well, his family’s living space. The ministry we are partnered this month has a center/school for women at risk. At this center the women are taught different work skills so they can exit sex trafficking and enter a new career. The Pastor, his wife, and three daughters live in the basement of this center.
When our squad was asked who wanted to paint this week hands didn’t exactly shoot to the sky. After about a 10-second pause four of us raised our hands. “You’ll paint a room and an office. You’ll probably be done by Wednesday, latest.” LIES. Straight lies. It’s Thursday and let me tell you, tomorrow is going to be a scramble to finish the project we started.
Once we saw where this family was living, it was evident we couldn’t simply paint the rooms. We couldn’t leave the kitchen with mold in it or the bedroom with rat poop on the floor. Instead, the five of us (Racers and the Pastor) came up with a new plan: we would deep clean everything and paint the three rooms and let the next team of Racers do the office (sorry not sorry, friends). What’s the best part of this, you may ask? It’s not that we don’t have to paint the office. It’s not that we are making a living space healthy for the kiddos. It’s the surprise.
I am a big fan of surprises. I think it’s a great way to feel loved. And this surprise is pretty dang loving, if I do say so myself. On Wednesday the Pastor’s wife and kids left town to visit family. She thinks her husband’s office would be painted. NOPE! Your whole house is being remade, friend. We are so excited about this blessing and absolutely bummed we won’t get to see her reaction!
At first look, painting isn’t exactly a glorious way to do ministry. Sometimes it’s easy to get disappointed with the way ministry turns out. Some of my squadmates are spending the week with slum kids or in the cabin restaurants or running a Beauty for Ashes retreat. They are sharing the story of Jesus. They are bringing hope to people who have never had it. And some of us are painting.
And I think painting could be the biggest blessing of them all. In the Bible Jesus and my favorite disciple, Peter, (he’s relatable, what can I say) are chatting:
“He (Jesus) asked him the third time, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?’ Peter grieved that he asked him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ He said, “Lord, you know that I love you.’ ‘Feed my sheep,’ Jesus said.” – John 21:17
A lot of the time Christians get stoked on sharing the Gospel with people who have never heard it (as they should, what a cool gift). We want to be the Shepard that leaves the 99 to find the lost sheep (Matthew 18:10-14). But what about the other 99? It’s important to remember that Jesus told us to feed His sheep. We are responsible to help feed the 99- as Christians we need to pour into each other. We need to bless each other. So no, I’m not sharing the story of Jesus this week. Instead I get to feed a family that does that for a living. I get to love their family by getting painting-induced headaches and a couple cuts from rusty nails (I have my Tetanus shot, don’t freak). Instead I get to see God’s smile as the Pastor walks into the room we are painting and says, “WOW. Professional.” (He clearly can’t ever seen real painters at work).
And I have all of you, my donors and prayer warriors, to thank for that. Thank you for funding me so that my team could buy paint. Thank you for funding me so that my squamates can order a drink at a cabin restaurant and offer the workers a way out. Thank you for funding me so that my squadmates can get to the slums to play with the kids that are huffing glue. Thank you for feeding me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
