Obey and Watch God at Work

Obey and Watch God at Work
By Marilyn Mackenzie



We had just moved into our house in a new neighborhood and found a church nearby. The church property was amazing. There were about a dozen or more Sunday school rooms, all lined up outside on one side of the property. At the end of the row, also outside, were rest rooms for each gender. The yard was almost a block long and was lined with pine trees, and the ground was covered with pine needles. As soon as I saw it, I thought this church would make an excellent refuge for the children nearby.

The sanctuary would have seated 500 easily. It was housed in the main building, which also included a large office for the pastor, and one almost as big for the church secretary.

The library was wonderful, holding all kinds of books, records, and tapes for adults and children. Tucked away in a corner of the library were an old record player, an old reel movie projector and screen, and a newer tape player.

The chapel was used for adult Bible study on Wednesday nights. It was big enough to hold about 50 people without bumping elbows.

There was a large room where the choir could practice, and a huge closet for choir robes. And there were a few rooms for adult Sunday school and large rest rooms in the hallways, which had been recently remodeled.

The fellowship hall was huge, and the kitchen was big enough to have a dozen folks preparing food without stepping on each other.

All of this was just a block from a busy two-lane highway. But the church was tucked away in the trees and invisible from the main road.

It had once been a thriving, active church, with over 300 families in attendance.
The large yard had been the scene of a live nativity each year, one of the reasons this church had become known to the area. (The other was the awesome chicken dinners they served as a way to earn money for ministry.)

When we arrived, the church membership had really dwindled. About 40 adults, mostly senior citizens, sat in the pews each Sunday.

The only children there were the kids or grandchildren of members. The teacher was burned out, since she had been teaching the four to six kids who attended for many years. She rejoiced when we arrived and I agreed to teach the kids.

The church sat in the midst of a neighborhood full of rental homes and lots of kids, so I invited them all to Sunday school. Those kids were hungry for attention and parents loved the free baby-sitting. I knew that God was urging me to reach out to these neighborhood kids, and I thought that my mission was to make a difference to them and their parents.

Most of the kids arrived hungry. On Sundays, their parents all slept in and didn’t bother to feed their kids, so I made breakfast each week before Sunday school started.

When I found out most were latchkey kids, I made sure I was at the church each day when they arrived home from school. I offered nutritious snacks, helped with homework, and listened to them boast about good grades. They helped to clean Sunday school rooms or create bulletin boards.

As the kids found love and acceptance, church leaders were not as enthusiastic as God and I, and that really puzzled me. First they reduced my Sunday school budget, then they eliminated it. I purchased materials or relied on donations from others in children’s ministry.

In our county, a group of children’s ministry workers – paid and volunteers – from all denominations met monthly to share ideas and resources. My fellow children’s ministry workers were more than willing to help with supplies for “my kids.”

The kids wanted to worship, but it was impossible to keep track of all of my charges. Some had ADHD. Most of had never attended church and just didn’t know the “etiquette” of being in a church or worshipping. When church leaders complained at their childish disturbances, I placed some of them with elderly couples who offered to help, and kept a few with me and my spouse and son. The kids got more attention; the adults learned that underneath the kids’ dirty exteriors were unblemished hearts.

Because of all of the criticism about my new ministry, I really wanted to quit. My young son said, "God wants you to do this. Dad and I will help more, won't we?" And so we continued.

At church dinners, neighbor kids sat with us. Instead of bringing the normal two dishes to share, I would make four or five, never knowing how many kids would attend. They weren’t used to having family dinners and they weren’t used to being able to eat until they were full. Sometimes our table would include my spouse and son and 12-15 kids! When they arrived with smudged faces and dirty hands, I'd clean them up. I loved those kids!

One day, I crossed a line I didn’t know existed. Other members were not pleased that black and Hispanic kids were in regular attendance. They closed the Sunday school wing indefinitely for "remodeling." I considered teaching my kids under a tree outside. But as I cried at home, my family agreed that it was time to give up. The church had finally won.

The next Sunday, after feeding the troops one last time, I took them to another church nearby. Three pastors greeted the kids and promised to take good care of them, and I cried as my son and spouse and I drove to another church.

Weeks later, I didn’t appreciate the response – loud belly laughs – I got as I related the story to a man who had once been the pastor at the church we just left. When he caught his breath, I asked why he thought my sad story was funny. He said, "Have you ever noticed that huge American flag at that church?" Of course I had. The men made a big deal of hoisting that flag.

"Did you know that the KKK donated that flag to the church?" Of course I hadn't known!

Still laughing, "What a fuss you caused. That church was started by the KKK." How could I have known that? Those precious black children were the first to grace the building in 80 years.

God has quite a sense of humor. That church’s membership dwindled to 25 and they couldn’t afford to continue. They couldn’t afford the heat and water bills. They could not afford the pastor’s salary, even though he only worked part time for them and part time for another church.

Someone offered $1.2 million for the property, but the church leaders didn't want to give up. Another new church of the same denomination needed a home and inquired about sharing the facilities.

An agreement was reached over the phone for the new church to rent the facilities. They intended to hold Sunday school during the time that the original church had worship services, then have their worship services later on.

Imagine the surprised look on the faces of the church leaders when they turned over the keys to a black pastor. Imagine how God laughed as dirty black, white, brown and yellow children met and embraced once more in the Sunday school rooms.

Sometimes you just know when it’s time to give up and move on. Sometimes God smiles and lets you know you've completed your mission, even if it didn't have the outcome you'd expected. That was the case with my brief children’s ministry at a church that had been a club, and not a church, for years and years.

Today that church thrives again. And the faces within are many colors.