Moving the Diapers

In a few hours I will be 44. 

And some days I feel very satisfied in where I am in life right now because in many ways I'm living the dream. And then other days I realize that the medium size t-shirts that I use to drown in are snug. And, I forgot to teach Moses how to tie his shoes until like fifth grade, and Daniel is graduating soon and so I'm sure there's a bunch of very important things I forgot to teach him too. I still haven't published the Great American Novel. In fact, I haven't even started writing it so I'm pretty sure I've definitely missed the deadline to be an "up and coming" author. 

I grew up reading biographies on highly extraordinary people, written to inspire young boys and girls. And I always wanted to be a highly extraordinary person when I grew up. I wanted to be a Helen Keller, or a Mother Teresa. They did such world-changing things. But what the biographies seemed to leave out is that the real greatness is in the million and one mundane things that they did that were definitely not in and of themselves noteworthy. Mother Teresa did not start a new charity, meet with Princess Diana or accept a Nobel peace prizes every Thursday. Most days she probably changed diapers, scooped rice and tied to listen to long stories without interrupting.

Doing the house church thing now as an ordained minister keeps me aware of those million and one more mundane and less noteworthy tasks that are the kind of greatness that transformed people are called to. There are less of those big, glamorous projects that give me those warm fuzzy Nobel-peace prize kinds of feelings. And plenty of very small and mundane tasks that really don't feel so very extraordinary. Cleaning my own house before church service. Filling the ice chest. Writing a sermon shared with a handful of people in my living room, not hundreds in an auditorium. Remembering to buy and bless some grape juice with my grocery order for the Eucharist. 

And yet, when we chose to see God working in these small things, he manages to wow us with the miracles he lets us be involved in along the way. Like moving the diapers.

Over a year ago The Table held a pretty successful diaper drive. We had hoped to give them out to families in need through a care portal ministry we connected with but there were surprisingly few requests for diapers. Most of the diapers went to the storage we rented. One package came in a little late and went in my closet. A package of size 6 diapers.

Last week Trevor, Daniel and I spent a few hours moving our stuff from the storage facility to a closet at the school we rent from. Including box after box after box of diapers. And in our hearts, I think we all were reminded of the parable of the bad steward who dug a whole and stored his master's resources "safely" in the ground. Like a bunch of unused baby diapers. We made it a priority to get them to someone who could use them ASAP.

I sent a message to a friend working for Helen's Hope Chest, which provides for the needs of children in foster care. It was so perfect, and needed and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it earlier. And getting them BACK out of storage and loading and driving them was beautifully mundane and ordinary.

But what was EXTROARDINARY was what happened the day before to that one package of size 6 diapers stuffed in my closet.

An anonymous post came through the mom's group I'm in on Facebook. A young mom needing help. Often, I overlook these anonymous requests because they tend to be vaguer and more bottomless. We're not able to offer the kind of or extent of help really needed. But this one stood out. Because what did she specifically really need? Size 6 diapers!

God, I always tell you, you've got to be loud for me because I'm pretty dense. This was loud.

Those crazy diapers matter!

I let her know I was putting it outside my house along with a gas card from my church. I had the gas card because Pastor John from a different Nazarene church had given it to us to give out to someone in need, as a reminder that we're all playing for the same team. The Kingdom of God. 

I can't say I didn't fumble the ball God tossed me a little that day. I could have offered more. I could have gone outside and prayed for her. I could have been better at pointing her directly to Jesus. 

But I can't help thinking she had to be able to make the connection on her own, that God had met her need.

And as for me, I can't help thinking that God might be saying about my very boring checklist last week, "Wasn't that fun, moving the diapers together this week?"