Weary

I'm weary. I used to laugh at my mother for saying that but now I know how she felt. Maybe it's from working over the past few days to help Grace Church landscape the neighborhood around the Extreme Makeover home in Erie combined with donating blood. Maybe I'm just getting old.

I'm also feeling overwhelmed about Operation Christmas Child. I drove over to my old church on Thursday and Friday and packed another 166 boxes to bring the total to 2,761--about on pace with last year at this time. It takes about 3 to 3 1/2 hours to pack one round of 75-90 boxes by myself. I need more help.

And it's my job to get it. People always say, "Call me and I'll come help you pack." But I don't want to call them. I want them to call me. It doesn't work that way, though. I'm supposed to be out there casting vision and motivating and stimulating people to join in the effort. Instead, I'm packing boxes by myself in the basement. Weary.

I've been reading in Exodus and noticed that when God brought His people out of Egypt He told them He would give them the promised land "little by little" so they wouldn't be frightened and want to return to Egypt. Well, of course they still wanted to go back to Egypt and He ended up making them wander around for 40 years. But that concept of "little by little" is one I'm going to stand on.

The goal of 10,000 boxes seems impossible today, but I'm going to keep packing "little by little". Because it's always one box at a time--one box to bless one child in Jesus' name.

And a friend reminded me of Jesus' invitation in Matthew 11:28 "Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."

I'm coming.