My wife and I were sitting at a picnic
table eating “store-bought” burgers. We were on our way home from a quick trip
to a nearby city, and made a “pit stop” at this slightly forlorn county park.
We were hungry, and this was a convenient place to take a lunch break.
We were sitting there, minding our own
business, when I happened to look down, and noticed the underpinning of the
bench we were sitting on. While the legs of other nearby benches were concrete,
ours were constructed of ancient red brick; And I began to reflect…
Where had these worn old bricks been
before they found their way to this remote park? Had they served in other
roles? I guessed they had. For in spite of this most recent, humble place,
these bricks had a character of their own.
Perhaps in a former life, they’d held up a
bridge. Maybe they’d been among thousands of others in a stately old Southern
mansion. Or perchance, they had been salvaged from a newly-paved city street.
I found myself smiling as I sat on that
particular bench. It was a joy to think that the value of these old bricks
remained intact. They found themselves in a place where people congregate to
relax, to socialize, to play, to share a few morsels of food. These red bricks
were still useful to society.
I think we have a lot to learn from these old and crumbling building blocks of our society. For we pass through our own seasons of life. We find ourselves working different jobs, fulfilling various roles, involved in a changing (and perhaps diminishing) ministry.
Solomon tells us "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens." (Eccl. 3:1)
I, for one, can verify the validity of
this scripture. I’ve worked multiplied jobs in my lifetime, and the fourth and
fifth decades of my life have found, and find me working as a counselor in a
small church agency. Time and space would fail me to describe the various
positions I’ve filled in my 55 years of life; teacher, janitor, shoe salesman,
nurseryman, minister, soldier, clerk. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg!
I’ve lived in six states and in twenty
homes. No one ever accused me of
“letting moss grow under my feet,” (but at the time no one ever accused me of being mature either).
I’ve made some poor decisions, and then
again, some very good ones. I’ve served and been served. My role, work and
ministry have been obvious at times, and far from it at other times.
So like those old red, crumbling bricks.
Our lives ought not be judged by the prominence of our positions, but by the
fruit and impact of our labor. Some will be known, and acclaimed by thousands.
Others will labor in the shadows, and their names will remain obscure or
unknown. Some will find their ministries "in decline" especially in their declining days. Some will experience regret, and mourn "the good old days." But we move through those seasons of life. They are both guaranteed and irrevocable.
I find myself in the most rewarding and
impactful position I’ve ever filled in life. Ten years in the counseling
ministry has seen thousands impacted for good and for God. Scores have been
touched with the advent of our recovery
ministry. Dozens have been added to our local church. And I have a healthy pride about these things.
But just as surely as the sun will come up
in the morning, my role and ministry will
change again. I may be half way through this particular season of my life.
Perhaps a decade of productive ministry remains to me, perhaps not.
And not to be caught unawares or undone,
I’m grooming someone to take my place. It’s odd to consider, but as one season
of my life passes, a younger servant steps up to fill the void. Where my dream
concludes, the dream of another begins, or continues. For I recognize that this
ministry is not dependent on me, but on God. So like those old clay bricks.
Though seasons come and go, though role and ministry change; His plans for me
are good, His place for me is sure. And I realize that my life is not dependent
on a particular role, but on the Hand
that leads me…
... through the seasons of my life.
By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Unconventional Devotions" Copyright 2005
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