Repairs Aren't My Forté

By JulieRiddle

In the past week, two lights in the bathroom have conked out, three in the kitchen have begun blinking spasmodically, and I discovered that my air-conditioning filter is swathed in enough fuzz to clothe the children of nearly any third-world country.

I haven't even mentioned that willy-nilly blind slat that slumps south when the cord is pulled, a toilet running more than Forrest Gump, and a mysterious yellow dust that has settled on my back patio.

But despite the fact that my home is only slightly more well lit than Dracula's and I have a nagging obligation to yell "Heads up!" when drawing the blinds, I remain in a very un-Bob Vila-like state. Laziness and a lack of time are prime, certainly, but so is the feeling that other things take precedence.

In the context of Christianity, how many of us have a tendency to squint through the darkness when it comes to our spiritual life instead of replacing what is burning out?

As part of a Bible study, I meet weekly with my pastor and a small group of twenty-something Christians. As is custom, we arrived recently expecting to read and discuss the Bible, but instead of delving into Scripture, the pastor produced a ball of red yarn. He explained that while holding one end of the string, we were to throw the rest to someone else, then give them a compliment. And in the process, something spectacular happened.

As we literally and figuratively wove a web of friendship, the opportunity to state our respect and love for one another brought us light years closer than 18 months of pool parties, outings and sermons had done. Cheesy? Absolutely. Effective? Definitely.

Practically speaking, a game like this probably wouldn't meet with enthusiasm at a church staff meeting or in Sunday service. But it begs the question: What's your ball of yarn? Do you have a tool that keeps your ministry from being stale, unproductive or downright shallow?

In our case, the issue was simply that we didn't know how to communicate such personal thoughts without feeling a tad goofy. But once the lines were open, allowing the chance to be transparent, a more meaningful set of mature Christian relationships began to develop.

In the cases of churches with hundreds of thousands of members, how can such a task be accomplished? It's done by encouraging a community of believers willing to drop anything and everything to help a fellow church member (or non-member) and do it with a spirit of love modeled after Christ.

At that same Tuesday night meeting, we presented one group member with a birthday present. The simple, handmade box containing cash, checks and personal notes was intended to be the 'nest egg' that would buy them the vehicle they lacked. While we probably didn't manage to scrape together more than a few hundred dollars, the gesture itself was a priceless one that will likely outweigh the worth of whatever is eventually bought. And watching the appreciation on the recipient's face as he clutched that gift was surely worth the dent it put in our bank accounts. After all, the phrase, "God cares more about our character than our comfort," a sage piece of advice from my pastor, was never truer.

How much longer are we as Christians willing to squint through the darkness? Pardon the ongoing and certainly simplistic pun, but until that flickering bulb of pride is allowed to burn, so too will its equally dim result.