A Simple Gift

Someone gave me a simple and wonderful gift this week I'd like to share with you.

Last Sunday was a busy one for me.  Bible Study started my day, then worship.  After worship came music rehearsal.  I got to come home to change and then it was games with the boys until three o'clock.  At three some of the girls came and we set up the movie equipment and cooked dinner in the church kitchen to serve to the high school group at 4:00.  From 4:00 to 7:00 we watched and discussed the movie, then it was time to clean up.  We tidied up the fellowship hall, put away all the plates and such, wrapped up the extra food, then everybody went home.  Well, everybody except me.  I stood staring at a stovetop with food spots on it (not food still, just some grease spots) and a soaking refrigerator drip tray that needed washing out.

By that time it was after 7:00.  I had already missed my daughter's bedtime.  I had not seen my son all day except for a good morning kiss.  He was sick so we didn't even get to share the peace in church.  I looked at the stove and the tray and thought, "20 minutes".  I knew I should clean them.  I knew if I didn't I was likely to hear about it.  Even though I had just spent all day at church, more than half of it with the youth, had put in hour after hour helping them do this stuff, I knew I would hear about the 20 minutes I didn't spend scrubbing off the top of the stove or washing out the drip tray.  I'd lay 70-30 odds that both of them would be called "filthy" along with the whole kitchen, even though it was mostly clean.  You know how that goes.

Some will say, "Why didn't you just get the kids to help you?"  But they did!  Some came early to cook.  The whole group stayed after to rearrange the fellowship hall, put away the movie equipment, clean up the obvious things in the kitchen. Not a one left.  They asked what they could do to help and then they did all that stuff happily.  But they have lives too...families and homework and other things they had given up to spend 3-4 hours with us at church.  I didn't feel right asking one of them to stay even longer doing these last two chores...really one-person jobs anyway.

So I stood there, the last one in the building, and looked at that stove with some spots on it, that drip tray soaking in the sink.  I looked at the cupboard with the cleaner.  And I made a decision.  I went home.  I went home to see my son.  I went home because I was tired after more than a full day at church.  I went home because I had already put in plenty of work and I thought it would be OK to put this last bit off for a day or two.  I went home because I felt that even though cleaning the last bit would be right (and save the whole day of work I'd put in and the wonderful youth events from being summarized as, "You left the kitchen dirty!") going home really felt more right and more important at that moment.

Mondays are always busy for me so I didn't get back to finish up.  Tuesday I got a call and had to be away.  That's the day I had planned to clean.  I knew I'd have time to do it Wednesday morning after Women's Bible Study.  I was running a risk though.  People would see the spots and the pan in the sink.  But that's what I could do.

Bible Study went fine.  After we finished I went into the kitchen to begin my work, glad at least for the company of ladies to chat with as I scrubbed and they washed out coffee cups.  I went over and looked at the stove and guess what?  It was clean.  I turned to the drip tray in the far sink and it was clean too.  Nobody had said a word to me.  Nobody had complained.  Nobody had come up to me after multiple hours of work I'd put in serving the church and its kids (and missing my own family) saying the equivalent of, "You didn't do enough!"  They just helped out.

Now, I don't know what was going on inside the cleaning person's head as they scrubbed the stovetop.  They may have been grousing and cursing me to high heaven.  But if they did, they didn't say it so I'm going to pretend it was every bit as gracious of an act as it seems.  The wonderful result for me was getting a gift...not just the gift of not having to do 20 minutes of work but the gift of feeling like someone helped out, that someone cared.  Somehow the burden of putting in 8 hours and 20 minutes of work was incredibly easy when I just had to put in the 8 hours and somebody else picked up the 20 minutes.  They didn't have to.  But they did.  It made me feel loved and cared for having those helping hands.

I don't know whose they were, but thank you.  Thank you for your incredible gift.  Thank you for easing my mind about 20 minutes spent with Derek on Sunday night instead of 20 minutes trying to avoid complaints about stovetops and drip trays.  I appreciate your quiet helpfulness.  My family appreciates it.  The youth appreciate it.  The work you put in wasn't a little, it was a LOT.  It meant a lot to me.

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)