Maybe it was guilt. Maybe obligation. Maybe a temporary
lapse in sanity. Whatever the reason, he finally caved in and agreed to start
serving in Waumba Land. Most members of his family had already been
serving there over the last couple years. He was the lone hold out. And with just
cause. He’d already paid his dues. Done his time. All those years, when his own
kids (now teenagers) were little, he was there. He had wiped snotty noses and sang the sugary-sweet, wee-worship songs. But there
he stood before me, tall and imposing in presence, and said, “I’m here to help.”
He went into the pre-k room to lead with his wife. He quickly learned which kids had allergies,
which ones liked Star Wars, which ones liked to be picked up when they were
upset, and which ones needed their space.
He liked greeting the kids at the door when their parents dropped them
off. He liked hearing his wife’s laugh when the kids asked him where his hair
went. He liked listening to his own teenagers share their Sunday stories about
the kids in their classes. Sunday had become the most exhausting, crazy,
hilarious, day in the week. And he loved it.
Until last Sunday.
The kids that have been wearing him out all year are now getting ready to promote out of Waumba Land and into Upstreet. We
brought the K-1 Upstreet leaders into Waumba Land to spend some time with their
new small group. A lot of changes take place in the fall for kindergarteners:
new school, new teachers, new church environment. We wanted them to become
familiar with the faces of their new leaders. One less adjustment to make. Or
so we thought.
I caught a glimpse of the once-reluctant leader as he walked
through the hallway away from ‘his kids’. I could see them standing at the door
and hear their cries for him. I could see the redness in his eyes. I gave him a
sympathetic smile. He paused before opening the gate to his new class, looked
at me and said, “I didn’t expect to feel this. I didn’t expect to get this attached. I guess I’m a softy, at heart.”
Maybe it was a moment of weakness. Maybe it was a temporary
lapse in emotion. Whatever his reasons were a year ago, he walked in hoping to help serve. He walked away knowing he had loved.
