From “I wanna…” to Awana…
I used to wonder what it would be like to have lived in the days when Jesus would walk into a town and begin to do His marvelous works. I thought, “How I’d love to just sit and watch Him move through a crowd of people — adjusting His demeanor and actions to fit each person’s need.” There’d be a sick one who’d be made well; there’d be a broken-hearted person whom He would release from the smothering debris of a devastated relationship. He’d confront the proud and bigoted, the better-than-you and the goody-two-shoes who always picture themselves as a bit above others due to their supposed moral excellence. And then He would quietly sit down by the side of the some rejected, scorned and bitterly resented person and declare that here, too, was “a son of Abarham” — just as He once did for Zacchaeus.
But what would He do when He came ’round to me?
I’d like to believe that He’d stand there for a moment — a smile playing about His lips — and then take my face in His hands and whisper the words that would redirect and realign my life — from heart to outward practice — with His good purpose. I’d like to think that He would bend low and murmur into my ear the words that dispell the enduring pain of an old wound or wrong notion. And I think He’d do that — every bit of it. And then hold me for a moment in His warm and healing embrace. <Whew! Just thinking about that is enough to make your eyes sweat, isn’t it?!>
But I’m afraid there’s something He’d have to do first. . .a kind of clearing of the ground of my heart — a removing of the vestiges of MY kingdom in order to build HIS kingdom there. I think He’d deal with my horrid “I wanna…” list. It’s not that anything I want is sinful in itself. It isn’t. It’s just that it by-passes the cross — my cross. My “I wanna. . .” list has nothing on it that doesn’t please or satisfy me in some way. It is filled with a thousand sweet traditions and laden with precious memories. It has all the things I like to do, just the way I like to have them done. It contains hymns, and styles of church worship, and types of people, and political parties. It has every one of the things I am most passionate about — the things I can get most heated over. . .except for Jesus.
Try as I might to include Him on my “I wanna. . .” list, He refuses to stay there. I stick Him in with my personal preferences only to find Him later hanging around with people and in places that I would never dream of being with or in. Is He wrong? Is Jesus wrong? . . .or am I?
We recently decided — as church — to begin the Awana Children’s ministry as an outreach to the more than 7000 children under 18 in our Zip Code area. Now I like children . . . on paper and in theory. But I’ve had six children of my own and I know that they’re a bit like spider monkeys (which I’ve also had): They’re cute and lovable from a distance but a pile of work and stinky close up! And, to be honest, the “new” and “fun” wears off pretty quickly with kids. They’re loud and noisy, unmanageable as a herd of buffalo, and (if you’re the Pastor) you HAVE to wear that little smile mask whenever they’re around, regardless of whether they’ve just broken the Wesleyan Women’s Bowling trophy (that you’ll be slow-roasted for having allowed) or not! Which brings me to this thought. . .
“I DON’T Wanna. . .’Awana’!”
. . .but Jesus does.
Now, (and this is the important part), whoever wins in this contest of wills is the real “lord of my life”. No matter what I say about Jesus being Lord on Sunday, if He doesn’t set the priorities of my life Monday-Saturday, too, then I’m the boss. . .not Him. And, if He’s not my Lord, He can’t be my Savior. So, this is really important, isn’t it?
—
I won’t tell you her name, but we have a beautiful 82 year old southern lady in our congregation — a woman who is in every ounce of her being a true gentlewoman. When our Awana missionary recently spoke on a Sunday morning, L. came forward after the service to chat for a moment. There are many things I want to do when I eventually reach 82 – and being around a bunch of screaming kids hasn’t once appeared on that list. But L. looked the man full in the face and, in her lovely soft southern accented voice, she told him that she wants to help with the children. “I wanna help.” And right there Jesus shows up!
<You can’t see what goes on on this side of the keyboard and normally that’s a good thing. But I just want to testify that, even as I typed those words, I just had to stop and deal with more “eye-sweat”. >
THAT’S what the title means: “From “I wanna. . .” to Awana.” Here is a woman who gets it! She is right in there where Jesus is, doing exactly what He is doing! And whether she ever hears His audible voice or feels His physical touch in this world, she is going to hear Him and touch Him in the voices and the bodies of those children!
