EN(dur)ANCE by Robin Gudal

 

What is ministry? What does it look like?

Is it merely the 5:15 a.m. call you received after returning home at 1:30 a.m., just hours earlier, from a 1.5-day storm-delayed trip out of state?

The youth on the other side asking, not seemingly to be tired at all, unlike you; “Hey, can you come help me get my car out of a snow bank?” He had taken his sister to work, parked and then the snow plow went by — now he had a problem. In addition, he only had a plastic shovel; they are not designed for Minnesota snowstorm snow.

A few hours later, when you are awake, and then armed with two real metal snow shovels and boots, off you go to help, to teach this young man how to get unstuck. The beauty in this true story is thankfulness.

See, this young man was so concerned that his car may get towed. He only had that plastic shovel so he had made very little progress in the minus temperatures and you helped him.

“Man, anything you need, you ask me, I will be there!” was his gift back to you.

Was this an act of heroisms?

No.

It was human! One human helping another.

“Share each other’s troubles and problems, and so obey our Lord’s command.” (Galatians 6:2  Living Bible translation)

We all can do ministry.

What’s yours?

I love the heart and life a friend of mine lives. She tragically lost her son.

One day he went to school and then to practice; a normal day. The next day she and her family woke up to a totally different life. I can’t even imagine the pain parents who have lost children walk through. What I do know is the woman, somehow, someway was able, in time, to make a ministry out of her pain. A quiet and likely unnoticed ministry to those around her. Not a quiet ministry to those she called, embraced, prayed for or to those she just showed up for.

Their world changed, it was turned upside down and inside out, and she knew what that felt like. I have no understanding, nor do I ever desire to, as to how such a loss must feel. It breaks my heart.

To all grieving family members and friends, thank you for the lessons you’ve taught me. You have taught me what grace is. You have challenged me about my priorities. You have demonstrated to me about caring for and about others to a deeper level. May you find comfort in the comforter.

Robin (Beckman) Gudal, intentional in life, is a wife, momma, nana, friend, a flawed and imperfect follower of Jesus.