A couple of weeks ago, Heather and I took the girls to see my sisters in a softball tournament. It’s a locally run and operated league, with ages from high school to older. Much older. My sisters fit on the low end, but they’re starting to creep into the “we’ll play while we still have our own knees” end of the spectrum. These are fun to watch games, because all of the teams are playing for fun. They hire the umps for the games, and rake their own fields, all for the opportunity to play in a game they love.
They also have to find people to man the concession stand.
So, during the tournament, that was me for about three innings. The guys who were supposed to come were running late because their game was still going on. I was asked by Kyleigh to put my low grade math skills to some good use, and to make sure the fridge door stayed shut.
Lily was very excited about this. She ran up to the gang who had come out to see Kyleigh and Leandra play and shouted with all the excitement a 4 year old can handle, “Daddy got a job!”
Apparently my current situation has not gone unnoticed even by the smallest eyes and ears.
I’ve been getting all kinds of advice on where to get jobs. There are some who assume that because of what went down in the last church that I am now ready to leave the ministry. This seems completely foreign to me. I do understand their reasoning, but to me its a thought akin to having a problem with a wart on your finger so you remove the hand. I have no desire to leave the ministry. It’s something I’ve been called into, and in a way not a choice. My choice is to be faithful to that calling.
Can I do other jobs? Yes, and I can do lots of things well… but I would never feel that some fulfillment I do when I can minister to someone else. I’m reminded of Paul, “Woe to me, if I do not preach the gospel.”
Concession barker is not in my future. At least, not in a permanent sort of way.