{I’ve already written ad nauseum in my own journal, but I can’t seem to wrap words around what is consuming my mind this morning.}
For the past 5 years, our church has been going to local parks and having church services for the neighborhoods surrounding the parks. For 3-4 Sundays in a row, we grill hotdogs and bake cookies and give every bit of it away to the folks who show up. They hear a simple gospel presentation and participate in some songs, and a few of them even put up with some awkward conversations from our church members who want to offer hope in Christ to them.
In the last 2 years, we’ve committed to one park rather than rotating between the other local parks because we feel especially drawn to this area. It’s full of government housing and bursting with exuberant children, and I’ll be honest–there are fewer doors slammed in our faces in this neighborhood than in the ones we actually live in. An hour before our service begins or the grill is fired up, several groups of two or three will spread throughout the neighborhood and hand out fliers inviting people for a free meal. Last fall we had a weekend Bible School for all the neighborhood kids and I have to confess, it was one of the best ministry endeavors I’ve ever participated in. Laid back and informal, it was so rewarding. We are doing it again in a couple of weeks.
I’ve not done the door-knocking part of this event since the very first time we tried it. Shortly after our first attempt at park ministry, I was blessed with a sweet baby boy–an event which “conveniently” excluded me from knocking on doors. I’m embarrassed to tell you how much of a relief it was to skip that part.
This time, though, I felt I had nothing to lose. My son is old enough to walk with me, so my husband I took over a couple of the streets with our five year old, who actually really loves knocking on strange doors and handing fliers to complete strangers. {cue the conviction}
It wasn’t a very successful jaunt through the neighborhood…it was such a nice day weather-wise that most people seemed to have gone out for the day. I was overwhelmed by the poorly installed window units in this section of housing, a little angry that whomever is in charge of maintenance in this area apparently doesn’t care about the moldy cardboard pieces duct taped around the outside of the windows.
I ended up in front of a house where I knew a couple of the kids playing in the front yard. A group of about 5 children immediately flocked to me, hugging, grabbing my hands, asking me questions, wanting to go with me to the park. In a haphazard fashion, we made sure everyone had permission from their folks to walk up to the park with me. One little girl, about 5 years old, asked me if going to eat at the park would cost anything. Her little worried face made my heart cramp up a little. “No, sweetie. It’s all free.” All of it. Her smile was enormous.
My son bravely mingled in along with the rest of them, his only-child personality a little overwhelmed by their chattiness and exuberance. I could tell he felt a little funny about sharing me with this passel of kids, but he handled it well.
So, here I am…. a short, white woman walking through this neighborhood completely surrounded by a sea of sweet brown faces. Whenever one hand let go of mine, another little hand eagerly reached for it. My husband was way ahead of me on the sidewalk, and he looked back to tell me we had picked up a few more kids. I turned around to see about 15 kids of all ages trailing behind me. I felt a little like the Pied Piper, all these kids following me up the hill to the park, but in that moment a wave of heaviness settled over me. Tears stung my eyes, and I felt that the Lord lifted the veil for me just a little so I could see.
So close, I can almost taste it.
So close, I just barely missed it.
A glimpse past the veil, before all goes dark again.
Jesus loved children and wanted them to come to Him. “The Kingdom belongs to such as these,” He said. And to these, the ones who eagerly joined me yesterday to go get a free hot dog and to hear the words of Christ preached. I felt a little like a child myself…with empty hands and nothing to offer, only eagerness to accept what was given me.
I wish I had taken each little face in my hands and said to them, “Jesus loves you so very much. Follow Him.”
Next week, I most certainly will do that.
Sometimes when I am struggling with doubts and am absorbed with what’s going on in my life, what feels unjust to me, with what I have found to be so bothersome or discouraging–sometimes the Lord uses those precise moments to hand me something so completely unexpected that I almost don’t know what to do with it. He peels back the selfishness and the self-absorption, helping me to see, to really see what is happening with His Kingdom today. It rarely happens when I’m feeling comfortable or well-adjusted or “in good favor” with the Lord. It happens when discontentment has taken up firm residence in my heart, when I feel rebellious towards the Lord, when I choose to ignore His voice and to listen only to the litany of complaints I can so quickly compile. I think He gives me these “kingdom moments” then, at those particular times for two reasons: one, to pull me out of the funk I’ve settled myself into because He is not okay with leaving me how I am [praise Him for that]; and two, to give it to me when I know I don’t deserve it. I know I can’t earn grace, but sometimes I think I’m doing so well spiritually that I pat myself on my the back a little and count the Lord as lucky to have such a compliant Christian on His team. {I shudder to write that, but it’s truth.} So, He seems to wait until I am fully aware of my pride and selfishness and absolutely sick of myself to show me the things He wants me to see.
It’s then that the full weight of grace settles over my heart and drives me to my knees in humility {i.e., humiliation} and thankfulness. I could never earn these gifts, any more than I could earn the gift of salvation.
So close, I can almost hear You.
So close, I just barely obey.
A moment passes by, You’ll find me chasing after lies.
I wish I could hold on to clarity like this all the time. Being human and on this side of the veil, I’ll let it go and be searching for it again soon.
But for now, I can’t let go of the conversations I had yesterday, of the deep sweet grace that reverberated in the voices of all kinds of people sitting under a park pavilion, singing “Amazing Grace,” of the unrestrained joy of the children who grasped my hands and wrapped their arms around my waist for hugs. I felt like I got a glimpse of the coming Kingdom. The one that’s here and at the same time, not here.
Your Kingdom’s come, Your Kingdom’s here, Your Kingdom’s coming soon.
All this pain and darkness in my heart will finally be through.
And I can’t wait to see Your face, to shed this earthly frame,
To throw off all that hinders and holds back.
Jesus, You’re so close,
Please be so close.
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.