Scrapbook Evangelism
And unto one he gave five talents,
to another two, and to another one;
to every man according to his
several ability. . . .
-- Matthew 25:15
You've
got your early Christian martyrs, who went one-on-one with lions and tigers
rather than renounce their faith.
You've
got your missionaries, who tried to stay out of cannibal soup pots, and boldly spread
the Gospel where it was never boldly spread before.
You've
got your world-renowned humanitarians like Albert Schweitzer . . . and your
tireless healers like Florence Nightingale . . . and the ones who remember the
forgotten, like Mother Teresa for India's poor, and Chuck Colson for those in
our own bulging prisons.
You've
got your famous artists and scientists with faith as their inspiration, and
musicians like Joseph Mohr and Franz Gruber, whose church organ wasn't working
one snowy Christmas Eve in Austria, so they sat down with a guitar and banged
out a new song: "Silent Night."
But what
can the rest of us do to show our faith?
Do saints
serve red Jell-O and casserole at funeral luncheons?
Do the
retirees who mow the church lawn every week count as Christian soldiers?
How about
the teenagers who sharpen and replace the pew pencils? The middle-agers who
tithe? The guys who fix cars for single mothers? The grannies who hold the
babies in the nursery so their parents can worship without a nervous breakdown?
Are these
mighty works for the Lord, too?
You bet
your sweet evangelistic bippy they are.
The
little things - the humble things - the things that never make the news - they inspire
and astound me, because of their endless variety. It's like there's a worldwide
patchwork quilt of love that each of us is helping to stitch in our own, unique
way.
I was
privileged to be part of one person's unique service recently. It sent a quiet
but powerful message about choosing life and sharing God's love.
A reader
of mine in Kansas City saw my story about an unwed mother who was set to have
an abortion, but a Christian friend pulled her back from the brink, and people
came out of the woodwork to help her out. This young woman had the baby in
mid-June - Dylan Michael - and is starting on that long, lonesome road of
single motherhood.
This
reader wanted to do something to encourage her, sight unseen.
So she
made her a baby album. It's a wonderful, colorful, original, whimsical, amazing
scrapbook that's 1,000 times neater than anything you could buy in a store.
I got tingles,
just looking at it. The time and effort that went into it! There was a page to
record memories of the pregnancy with construction motifs: "Baby Under
Construction." There was space for the tiny handprints and footprints, and a
place for the mom's hospital wristband and the baby's cradle nametag. The
colorful papers had teddy bears, bottles, binkies and duckies, with phrases
like "bundle of joy," "pitter patter," "mommy's boy," "snuggle bug," and
"wiggles and giggles."
Scrapbooking,
you see, is her "ministry." She makes scrapbooks for new babies born in her
church, and for seminary students who come and go. She meets weekly with other
enthusiasts - the "Scrapping Divas" - and they attend "crops" and conventions .
. . in their signature tiaras.
Tiaras?
Again, you bet your sweet evangelistic bippy. Endless variety, remember?
She wrote
this to the new mom:
"I made
this album for Dylan because I wanted to show you how much I support your
decision to bring him into the world. I never really understood the love that
God has for us, until I had my own kids. Just as we never question meeting the
needs of our earthly children, He wants us to rest in the assurance that our
Father will take care of our needs."
What a testimony.
What a
message.
Every
time that mom sees that scrapbook in the years to come, she'll be reminded that
God is there for her . . . all around her . . . picturing a happy future for
her . . . in endless ways . . . and you can bet your sweet bippy He always will.
†