God's Worn Out Servants Read online

couldn’t cut that out.

  The next morning I woke up early and made pancakes—not just any pancakes, but chocolate for Evan, strawberry for Jessica and Richard, and blueberry pancakes for Sarah and myself. I even poured them into heart shapes like I used to do, back when I liked cooking for my family. Jessica was the first to the table.

  “I made your favorite breakfast.” I set her plate on the table just as she sat down. Her sleepy-eyed stare was gone the second she laid eyes on her food.

  “Strawberry?” she asked.

  “You bet.”

  She happily ate her breakfast as I watched her. She looked different. She was getting taller, thinner; I noticed more freckles on her cheeks. My little girl was growing up. Was I missing it? Would she be college-bound the next time I stopped to think about it? I glanced down the hall.

  “Honey, let me ask you something. Are you happy?”

  She looked at me quizzically. “Yeah. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sweetie, I’m happy. I was just wondering if you were.” Was I really happy? Could I trust her to tell the truth? She nodded her head, still obviously thinking about where this was leading.

  “I mean, I wish we could spend more time together—doing girl stuff.”

  “Like going roller skating?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Yeah, like roller skating.” The thought of myself on skates made me laugh again. I used to love to roller skate. What was so funny about it?

  I’d trade weekly dance lessons for an occasional skate trip.

  “Too bad we don’t have much time for stuff like that,” I said. “If we didn’t go to dance, maybe we’d have time.”

  “Not go to dance?” Her face twisted until I was afraid I’d see tears.

  “Oh, no, honey, you can keep going to dance class. Maybe we can find time to go skating sometime, too.” I patted her on the back and hoped she’d calm down before Richard walked in the kitchen. He worked overtime to make sure she could continue her lessons. He’d be angry if he thought I was trying to trick her into giving them up. Dance was definitely staying on the schedule, but what was left?

  Days went by and every effort to carve out some “free” time was met with resistance on every side, and I couldn’t bear to inconvenience anyone. I needed to learn to say no to anything new, and hope some activities would soon end. I daydreamed about what I’d do with a few minutes to myself. I’d love to take a hot bath. Not just a quick shower, but a long, relaxing soak in the tub. Maybe I’d write a letter to my favorite aunt. I hadn’t sent her any pictures of the kids in years. How did life get so complicated? Why did I feel like I had to schedule time to use the bathroom? I tried everything to slow down, but nothing was working. I was convinced this was simply the way things were supposed to be. After all, the woman of virtuous character in Proverbs 31 was busy all the time too, wasn’t she?

  “Melanie,” Kallie said to me, the next time we were cleaning together, “would you mind picking up Gracie and taking her to the church fundraiser this afternoon?”

  “Sure, but aren’t you coming?” Panic was setting in. I couldn’t manage this event without her.

  “Yes, I’m coming, but I’ve got a bunch of errands to do, and I have to take Seth to his check-up then get him back to his daddy before the fundraiser starts.”

  “Did you tell him there wouldn’t be any preaching?” I asked. “It’s just a fundraiser.”

  “I know. I told him but he’s still not willing to come. He says church people are stuffy. He said he’d watch Seth though, so I could help out.”

  “He’ll come around in time.”

  “I hope so. All right then, I’ll have Gracie ready, and you can just swing by and pick her up on your way. Jason will be home. I’ll tell him to expect you.”

  I pulled into Kallie’s house, and Gracie ran out the door. I stepped out of the minivan when Jason appeared in the doorway.

  “Hi Melanie,” he called. “How’s your family?”

  “We’re great. Richard is meeting us at the church later. You should come and visit.”

  “Oh, I’m kind of busy here, fixing the back porch steps. Maybe another time.”

  “Sure.” I nodded and helped Gracie into the back seat. When I turned around Jason had disappeared. I drove back wondering how the church could reach a person like Jason. Kallie was raised in church, but what about those who weren’t—how could we get them interested? We needed an outreach program of some sort.

  Suddenly bells were ringing in my head. “No. I don’t need any new projects,” I thought. I turned the radio to the local Christian station and drove on to the church. We were the first to arrive.

  I unlocked the doors and instructed the children on what to do. My two oldest children would help while Gracie followed Sarah around, to keep them both out of trouble.

  It took an hour of decorating before anyone else showed up. Pastor came in to say hello, then went quickly to his study. He was a busy man and it was hard for either of us to find time to talk. As I passed by the door to his study I saw through a crack in the door, he was kneeling on the floor, praying. I wondered why he wasn’t helping with the fundraiser. With so many things to do, he just stopped to pray. Was it possible to just make time?

  The church was soon full of people. Kallie arrived a few minutes after we started, but she got right to work and everything was going smoothly. Things were starting to settle down a bit, but I was feeling uneasy. I‘d nearly decided there was no hope for my schedule, but seeing pastor on his knees had changed my mind again. Conviction washed over me. I’d been wrong, and it was time to fix things—time to make time. Not me-time, but time to let God restore me. How long had it been since I’d really prayed? I didn’t mean the usual goodnight prayer or the “please let us have a safe trip” prayer, but real, authentic communion.

  “I’m going to step out a minute,” I told Kallie, my stomach in a knot.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I just need some air.”

  She nodded but I don’t think she really understood. We didn’t take breaks, not even when they were offered to us. We certainly would never step out in the middle of a busy church function.

  I found Richard on my way out, and told him I was going to step out for a minute. He said he’d go check on Gracie and Sarah. The uneasiness I was feeling was mounting. When I reached the door, I was nearly suffocating. I had to get out, into the sunshine, into the fresh air, into Jesus’ arms.

  The warm air was refreshing after leaving the air-conditioned church, but soon the humidity was too much. I found myself feeling uneasy, and it wasn’t just the weather. I kept walking through the parking lot, crowded with empty cars. I walked on, unsure where I should stop. I wanted to pray, but I felt drawn from the church. My pace quickened.

  “God, help me. Lead me.” My heart was in a panic when I reached the end of the parking lot. What was I searching for? I turned to my right, and at the end of a long line of cars, a white car stood out. It was parked awkwardly in the grass. We ran out of parking spaces some time ago, and people had begun parking wherever they could fit—a sign of a successful church event, I thought.

  I was drawn to that car, and suddenly, I found myself running toward it. I didn’t know why I felt so strongly, but I was convinced it was urgent. I was still searching for the words to tell God how wrong I’d been, how it was my fault I’d been too busy for Him. I wanted to stop and make amends with Him, but something pressed me further.

  I reached the car out of breath. It was Kallie’s. I looked around, but saw no one. The urgency I’d felt so strongly was spent. I rested my head on the back window, ready to pour my heart out to God, but as my eyes began to close I saw something out of place: a perfect baby boy asleep in his car-seat in the back. It was Seth.

  His mother, Kallie, was inside and Seth was supposed to be with Jason. I remembered seeing Jason just hours before, and him telling me about fixing the porch steps. Kallie forgot to drop him off! I pulled the
handle, but no luck. I tried the front passenger door but it was locked too. I ran around the car but both of the driver-side doors were locked as well. I screamed out for help but I doubted anyone would hear. I searched the ditch frantically and found a fist-sized rock.

  “God help him,” I whispered desperately, as I plunged the rock through the driver-side window, cutting my hand on the broken glass. I hit the unlock-button and opened the back door. I shook the blood from my hand and quickly wiped it on my blouse. I undid the car-seat belts and took the baby in my arms afraid to know if he were alive or dead. I couldn’t remember any CPR. I wasn’t even sure if that’s what he needed. I did the only thing I knew to do; I ran. I put Seth on my shoulder and held him there with both hands while I ran as hard and as fast as I could, back into the church. I remember yelling something as I reached the doors, but I don’t remember what it was. Kallie took the baby from me in surprise. Her face held onto disbelief.

  “What?” she called out when she saw the blood on my shirt.

  “I found him in the car,” I cried.

  A tall man stepped up to Kallie and said, “Give him to me.” Reluctantly, she handed him over. He laid the baby down on the floor and listened to his chest and mouth. I fought tears back to keep from making any noise.

  The next thing I recall, I was sitting on the floor. Richard was at my side asking me if I was okay. I looked down at my