Lost & Inefficient

I stepped out in the humid Kansas City air by myself and headed to the van. The group of teenagers I came with were still reveling in the cool AC of the Presbyterian Manor’s lobby, waiting for the last member of the group to be located. She was with our group one moment and gone the next. This infraction of YouthWorks’ three-together rule made me wag my head as I cut through the heat, across the lot, to the 15-passenger van.

 

To be honest, I feel a bit lost when it comes to nursing home ministry. It is never my first choice. I’ll take a paintbrush full of color or playground full of kids before the hesitating pace of white hair and wheelchairs. For me, stepping into these interactions is much like stepping into cold water – I have to force myself to get started, sometimes just plunging awkwardly in.

 

I had pushed a few teenagers into conversations the day before, then followed suit and plunged in. I sat just down the table from Esther and Betty, who were focused on a craft project of tying fabric to a wire circle to make a wreath. I introduced myself and, not knowing what else to do, began making my own wreath. The conversation was halting and disjointed: I would comment to Betty. Esther would ask, “What?” Betty would repeat loudly what I had said. Esther would nod. I would smile politely. There would be a brief pause. Then… repeat.

 

If I were painting a house it would have been more efficient. At the end of the day we could have pointed and said, “Look what we did!” And there would have probably been a sense of accomplishment corralling a yard-full of kids into an organized activity. But it was hard to know what to point at after a day of slow, fragmented communication. And yet there was also something beautiful about being lost from efficiency in that two-hour time frame – being present… and available… and near.

 

Before I had time to climb into the 15-passenger van and turn the key, my crew was following from across the lot – missing student now included. When they got closer I hollered at her, “I thought we lost you!” She promptly pointed out that she had been in one of the resident’s rooms talking. She had meant to spend a mere moment saying goodbye to the elderly woman but had been caught up in a conversation – lost in the moment. Even knowing she was late, she stayed – allowing the woman’s words to fill the room between them. It sounded like disregard for the schedule and like an infraction of the 3-together rule… and it also sounded like meaningful ministry.

 

While I still love a good tangible project and am an avid supporter of groups of three, it was good to be reminded that meaningful ministry doesn’t always follow the rules of efficiency. Service can certainly happen in energetic spurts, but can also transpire slowly in the time between, when we are patiently present with ears open to another. In a world that travels at a million messages per minute, perhaps a ministry of humble presence is the most impactful ministry of all – a kind of service that is easily distracted from plans and agendas and wanders off toward real needs.

 

Today, may you be reminded of the wonderful inefficiency of God’s grace for us – that God allows us a slow progression, time to understand and even opportunity to struggle. But through it all, God is present… and available… and near.

 

And we can be too.

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Sam Townsend helps write training, programming and marketing materials for YouthWorks. Sam hangs around teenagers a lot and took a trip with some of his favorite teenagers to YouthWorks’ Kansas City, KS site this summer. At the end of every summer, you can find Sam selling the world’s best footlong hotdogs at the Minnesota State Fair, a family tradition since the 1940s.

 

If you have poems, stories or pictures from your mission trip, we’d love to help share them! Send them to stories@youthworks.com