Reluctant Instrument

Last month, my husband came home from work telling me of a need his co-worker had for a temporary sitter. She was a single mom, with a daughter exactly the same age as my oldest.
Also, I should add, that our family budget had recently been put on a diet, due to some expenditures that all seemed to happen simutaniously. As part of a single paycheck home and new homeschool family, this would be my little chance to help out a bit in that area, since the mom would be paying.

My first response was not one that I'm especailly proud of. You see, the month of June was a particularly busy one for me...we were starting our first swimming classes for both girls, a tumbling class, and VBS not one- but two separate weeks. Looking back, I realize how lame all of this sounds... but on the other hand, I was feeling very overwhelmed by the marked calendar before me. Besides...I had never heard of this co-worker before then, and didn't know anything about them. What if this girl would be a handful? Cause friction with my children? Use bad language? What if, what if...?

Well, my dear hubby allowed me to say no without pressing the point, but did mention it one more time, just a few days later. It would actually be one less day than originally thought, and she was very desparate.
I was weakening.

"Alright...but under one condition," I told him in my no-nonsense way. "That is the week of Vacation Bible School. Her mom would have to agree to let her attend, as well."

The mom gladly agreed, though their family never darkened a church door, normally. I took a deep breath, and then prayed for a smooth week. And all the while, God was tugging at my heart... I found out that she would be leaving across country to live with her grandma for the rest of the summer, following her week with us. And I began to pray for her now, in earnest. I prayed that God would use this time with us to show Himself to her...while at VBS and while in our home. And the sweet part was when my seven year old would pray for her, also. Praying that she would some day ask Jesus into her heart and know Him.

The first morning, we woke up early and drove to my husband's work where she was eagerly waiting. She was very excited (and so was my daughter) even though they had never met. I liked her immediately. She seemed so spunky and cheerful, in spite of some of the past that she had to endure, possibly from an abusive father. She loved chattering away and she made my girls laugh almost immediately. We were off to a good start!

Each day, when I'd pick them up from VBS, I was delighted to hear how much fun they were having. It was the popular pirate theme for this camp, complete with loud, foot-stamping pirates singing with the kids at the beginning and end of each day. We parents were, for the most part, covering our ears...but all of the kids couldn't get enough of it. And along the way, they were also learning about Jesus.

The older kids were assigned "homework" where they'd have to read verses (if they so chose to) and write out a prayer in their own words something that had to do with the verse. Each day, both little girls (just out of first grade, mind you!) dutifully did their homework. There were a few opennings during this time where I was able to share something with her about God. She knew so very little and was like a sponge when the smallest of droplets fell her way.

I had found out that Thursday was her 7th birthday. (Just nine days before my own daughter's.) I hadn't really planned on doing anything, but while they were at VBS, and my youngest was with me doing errands, I found myself in the Christian book store. Before I knew it, I had two employees helping me search for the perfect, yet inexpensive children's book to give her. I finally settled on a Bible story book, wrote a note inside, wrapped it up, and bought a balloon.

She seemed amazed at the fact that we would give her something after just meeting her, and though she expressed her thanks, I wondered at her quietness as she viewed her Bible book. Was she expecting a toy and was disappointed?

The next evening, after her last day with us and lots of goodbyes and hugs, my husband told me what her mother had said to him that day. Apparently, her mother had come into her room and she was reading it...and then, when she was done, she had put in under her pillow so she could sleep with it.

Even now, this image touches my heart so much. God loves this little girl and so used us in such a simple, but profound way. Yet, in it all, I was the one that was blessed just as much, if not more. She was spunky yet polite...cheerful, yet I could see that deep down hunger for the God she had never known about before. She played beautifully with our girls- and each day that she was here, saw more fun to be had...playing pirates in the back yard...dressing up in fancy clothes just because...It just seemed as if our family had known her all of our lives.

I learned so many lessons from this recent experience...about reaching out to others in spite of our "full schedule"... about being willing to disrupt my daily routine just a bit so that maybe God can use me in some small way... about not constantly focusing on my own little family life to the point of not seeing those around me....those hurting, those in physical need... and those that need a Savior.

I am the first to admit that I am selfish my nature. Perhaps we all are to a certain extent, but sometimes I feel this is a great flaw of mine which I constantly seem to have to battle. But perhaps, after seeing what God did in all of our lives when I submitted to His leading in this small week out of my life, I won't be as slow to listen next time.

Because when all is said and done, if we let Him use us- even in the little ways- to be a blessing to others, we sometimes get a beautiful surprise. We also become the receiver of His Gifts in ways we previously wouldn't have expected. And I'm here to say that He can even use those of us that think we're too busy- too scattered with tasks and stretched too thin- and yes, too self-absorbed at times to see beyond our own little world to the world outside.

Even someone like me.