Pull Up A Chair

Someone asked me recently, “Are weeks like these hard?”

Yes.

There are weeks when we walk into rooms knowing there is absolutely nothing we can do to change what is happening. We sit with families preparing to say goodbye. Sometimes we pray. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes Moose quietly does what he does best and stays close. And sometimes we aren’t even in the room. We’re just nearby, waiting, because a family knows we are there if they need us.

Would I trade those weeks?

Not for the world.

Because being invited into someone’s life during one of their most difficult moments is something I will never take lightly. It is an honor to be trusted with the hard stuff.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the word ministry because of that.

Ministry isn’t always about what you say or what you give. Sometimes there aren’t any words.

Hardship doesn’t discriminate. Illness doesn’t discriminate. Grief doesn’t care who you are, what you have, where you live or what you believe.

And neither should love.

We are called to love people. Serve people. Give to people. Sit beside people. See people.

Sometimes that looks like a care box or a fuel card. Sometimes it’s Moose beside a hospital bed. And sometimes you bring absolutely nothing except yourself.

Maybe that’s what these weeks keep teaching me.

Ministry is loving the person God puts in front of you.

You don’t always need the right words.

Sometimes you just pull up a chair.

And stay.