To Obey… or Not…?

It was a Saturday morning after a very, very long workday Friday.  I had driven nearly 300km, took photos of more than 100 children, spoke Chichewa all day, and helped the children write letters and draw pictures for their sponsors.  I figured I deserved a rest.   

As usual, as I was enjoying my quiet Saturday morning just puttering around my house, reading, cooking, baking, and cleaning up, I was interrupted with the usual “Odi!” indicating that children had arrived.  I will be honest and say, I ignored the first few hoping they would go away.  They didn’t.  They hung around on my veranda, not because they were pushing their boundaries, but because they didn’t have anything else to do.  They thought maybe I had gone away.  After all, I didn’t give them any indication that I was there.  The door was closed and all was quiet.  

As they sat down in my rocking chair to chat quietly together, there were 2 sides tugging in my heart. 

“I want quiet.  I want rest.” One side of me chanted.   

The other side quickly chimed in “But you came here for the kids.  You know being a ‘mother’ isn’t always convenient.” 

“I deserve rest.” Pushed in the first side again.  “I worked hard yesterday.” 

“Does God want you to do only what is easy?  Doesn’t He ask you to put down yourself?  Doesn’t He ask you to deny yourself?  To die to yourself and do what He asks you to do?” 

Ugh, that’s not always easy.  It means doing the opposite of what you want. I’d like to say my obedience this morning was cheerful obedience.  But that would be lying.  However, the next time I heard “Odi!” I responded.  I opened the door with a smile.  And the children flopped on the veranda like they felt at home.  After talking for a bit, they asked if I was tired.  I guess I looked like it.   

I had all these things to do, but there were children here.  What was I to do with them?  In the end, I gave them coloring books and UNO cards.  And then I learned a lesson. 

As they settled in to do what it was they wanted – some coloring a picture, some playing UNO – the noise quieted, they became relaxed.  Some were singing quietly, and my heart filled with joy.  A joy I would have missed if I hadn’t opened the door.  A joy and contentment they would not have received had I selfishly stayed inside – hiding.  I would have missed hearing them sing the last song I taught them in Sunday school.  I would have missed hearing them sing a simple psalm we usually hear in church.  I’m ashamed to say that my obedience this morning was not cheerful obedience, and still, despite my sin, God blessed obedience.