Thank God for BOWLING BALLS

It was the end of a long day as I approached the front porch of the parsonage. With 6 kids there is always lots of stuff on our porch and usually a bicycle or scooter to maneuver around before hitting the steps. Usually, I just ignore it, but on this particular day one item seemed to stand out. It was an unusual bag and when I reached down to pick it up, it was very heavy. Setting it back down I went inside, too tired to lift it and look inside, and figuring it was full of rocks the boys had gathered up for some secret club house ritual. Once inside my wife looked up to me and asked, "did you see your gift"?

Before I tell you the rest, I need to tell you this. The previous Sunday, a lady from our town named Ms. Lida came to our church. Now I can tell you about Ms. Lida but what my wife wrote on her blog best describes her...

From the world's perspective, Ms. Lida is a person with little or no value. She's an unsightly woman, who lives in a shack just a few blocks from us. She is never quite clean, and usually smells pretty badly... She doesn't have indoor plumbing, but uses the woods behind her house. She washes her clothes by hanging them outside on the line to wait for rain. She is paranoid, and has some tales to tell. Did I mention she hoards things? boxes, trash, dogs... anything will do. We often see her (or hear her) walking down the road, a dog (or 2 or 3) chained to her grocery cart and helping to pull it along. Since we found that she was digging in the dumpster behind a small grocery store for food, we have regularly taken food to her house. Our children know Ms. Lida. They are not ashamed of her, and they don't think any less of her than they do the finest dressed lady at our church. They see her as a person, created and loved by God, and valuable because of it. She often comes by our house to ask us to pray for her, and sometimes leaves t-shirts that she has painted hanging on the tree in our yard. The first one was for Kyle. It was yellow (and filthy) with Jesus' face painted on the front (with real glow in the dark eyes!). Kyle was not embarrassed, but said, "Mom, I WILL wear that shirt to church."Our children know the look and the stench of poverty, and the eccentricity of mental illness. They are not disgusted by it, but are motivated by the desire to help.
(picture is of Ms. Lida on our front porch)

When Ms. Lida came to church the previous Sunday morning she gave me a note. I put it on my desk to read after church. She had written a poem, well I guess you would call it a song since she wrote on the paper that it was to the tune of "Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortening Bread". She came back to church that night and I had a suprise for her. Our pianist could play just about anything and keep up with even the most horrid of singers. I told her to play the song and I sang what Ms. Lida had written during the time we generally have special music. Well nothing could have been more special to Ms. Lida.

You see few people have ever treated Ms. Lida like she was just as important as everyone else. I will never forget the look on her face when I finished that little song. I went over to her pew, hugged her and told her we loved her. She just sit there and cried.

Now it was my time to cry as I scurried back out to the porch to see what was in that bag.

IT WAS A BOWLING BALL

It was a nice one too, except that I couldn't have gotten my little finger in any of those holes and I don't bowl.

As a pastor you get many gifts. People give things to me and my family to help us out along our path. Many of those gifts were greatly needed and all were most appreciated. Yet, here was a gift that I really had no use for, but one that touched my heart. I may one day have a hard time remembering from whom and what gifts we have recieved over the years, but I will never forget that Ms. Lida gave me a bowling ball. For starters it was heavy and Ms. Lida was a little woman. She must have really struggled to get that ball from wherever she found it. Probably in a dumpster somewhere or some old abandoned house.

She had nothing of value to give, but what she gave, God made exceedingly valuable.

By the way, I did get one of those tee shirts she would hang on the tree; although mine didn't have a Jesus with glow in the dark eyes; must be a kid thing. :)

You see, I learned more about what it means to minister to people through our family's relationship with Ms. Lida than I ever learned in a classroom, a seminar, or from a sermon, including my own.

James (the half-brother of Jesus) teaches that since God is not a respecter of persons neither should we be respecters of persons. When James gets to that scripture so many know about works and faith, he uses the brother or sister who is without clothing and daily food for his example. Yes we should pray for people and have kind words for them but if we don't love them with our works (deeds) then our words seem empty to a dying world, and we fall short of fulfilling the "royal law according to the scriptures" James speaks of in chapter 2. Lida helped me to see the value in doing what God has instructed, God's way. Especially with respect to those that society (and in some cases the church) has forgotten.

Fact is Lida probably blessed us more than we blessed her; so let me close with this...

"THANK GOD FOR BOWLING BALLS"!

God Bless!

Pastor Scott