The Middleton

About a week ago, Monday, I was in Ohio relishing my last hours away from work before having the country roads take me home to the place I belong...Weeesssst Virgina (thanks to John Denver for a song I can joke about when I go home). It was a moment of melancholy as sat in the gazebo of a familiar park with a young lady I hadn't seen in ages. The clouds slurred behind the distant trees as I looked into her eyes, saying, "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I don't know how much longer I can give everything I have to these unappreciative kids, knowing that they won't care, and understanding the negligible likelihood that any effectual change will take place in the time that I spend with them. I just don't know."

We sat there in silence. She looked at me, her eyes saying that she wished she had an answer for me--that she wished there was something she could say or do. I breathed deeply and leaned forward. The wind changed directions and I could feel the chill as the hair on my bared arm began to rise. My mind began racing, searching for an answer. How much longer could I give and give, seeing no fruit. My commitment to service was made indefinitely--that is, until such time as God would tell me to leave. Having no directive from God as to how long I should stay, could I, in good conscience, leave?

Again the question came. How long? How long can I give? How long can I expend all my time effort and energy to a cause that offers no fruit? Can I press on in relentless dedication to an uncertain goal entirely unattainable by my efforts alone? Can I continue to give my all in desperate hope that someday one or maybe two of these kids will see the sacrifice I've made, appreciate it, and bring about a change in their own lives?

And the lone answer I could reach was, I don't know. I don't know. Then I heard the voice of God calling to me, "but that's what I did." And every objection I could raise, and every uncertainty that could rise. One answer: "...but that's what I did." All I'd been able to think of was all that I do for the kids, but finally God was able to show me all that He's done for me.

God's victory enables ours.