Several days ago, when I was revealing to one of my grand daughters the fact that we were closing the Green Spot, she said, We wont be important anymore will we? When she asked the question I had to laugh, but my next thought ran to the Word of God, Matthew 11:2-3. Now when John had heard in the prison the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples, 3 And said unto him, Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another? John, you will recall, came as the forerunner to the Messiah. He KNEW Jesus was the one when he saw the Spirit of God descend like a dove upon Him that day at the Jordan River when he had the honor of baptizing Gods Christ. John even said to two men (the disciples John and Andrew), There He is! The lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world. Did John know Jesus was the ONE? Of course he did. But later, as he languished in prison, far from the banks of the Jordan and the excitement of the crowds and the baptisms and the powerful presence of God, he began to doubt the truth that he had once been certain about. Removed from the mix, we begin to question our own stature. Taken off stage, the play without us seems empty and meaningless. And we struggle with self-worth, our value in the eyes of God, wondering if we ever truly worked in His will or not. We put the Green Spot away yesterday evening with no applause. The only witness without connection was Steve Hill who snapped off photos to place in the history of Dalton. This morning I received a note, asking why past workers had not been included in all the hoopla that surrounded the passing. One of the sad things about life is that in the moments of struggle, we tend to move away alone, to internalize the pain and just walk through the mist, waiting on the end. Like a wounded animal, we leave the watching eyes and move into solitude where we can die with grace and peace, taking internal inventory as death was meant to play out. I was not the key player in the Green Spot. I inherited everything I had. Some things I was given were not so evident. From my Daddy I learned how helpful it was, in those minutes of deep struggle, to turn off the lights in the office and cry alone in the dark. I learned to take the heat when it was not really mine to hold. I learned that the best decisions do not always please the crowd. I learned that the hardest thing to say is not, I am sorry, but I was wrong. Today, its all over. But the key to me and everyone who ever punched the stores time clock is more internal and personal than pictures in the paper or interviews with reporters. Here is the important question. Did we maintain our character in the midst of the times when the center stage was not ours? I pray to God that I did and will. But maintaining my character is not about please you. It is about pleasing Him, being true to the commandments that make me a disciple, even when no one is watching. As the old saying goes, I am not playing for the crowd, I perform for the audience of One. The world can clap, but only He can glorify with peace, love and joy that does not end when the applause closes and the lights go out. In John 6, Jesus speaks to a hungry multitude about how wrong it is to worry so deeply about the food that God knows we need. He states, Labor not for meat that will perish. They, in response, ask, What is the work we should do for God? And the eternal answer, whether it is the life of the Green Spot, or some other choosing, was, Just believe. When my turn comes, as the Green Spots, may I die believing -- in Him, not me.
Posted on: Wed, 20 Aug 2014 14:50:24 +0000
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