Guest Post by: Rosa Hopkins
One bright Sunday morning, the pastor in our little old country church boldly proclaimed that we must each have a ministry. When I heard those words, I slumped down in my hardwood pew wrought so long ago from knotted oak. At that time, I was sick and mostly bedridden. I rarely left the house. I didn’t believe I could make a difference.
Fast forward a few years, and I recovered enough to spend several hours per week volunteering my time at a local Christian preschool. I wiped noses, zipped up coats, tied shoelaces, washed hands, and helped my young scholars scrawl the sideways, squiggly letters of their names.
Songs were a big part of our routine, and for months we rehearsed the words and hand motions to whimsical melodies about the resurrection, Jesus, and the Easter holiday. We prepared for the big event where parents and grandparents would come and snap photos and scoop these little ones into their arms, beaming with adoration.
For Lilly, that moment wouldn’t come.
Her mother had to work, and no relatives would be there. As a child, I remember gearing up to sing my heart out and scanning the crowd with no one familiar in sight. I saw Lilly searching, looking and growing more anxious as the seconds felt like an eternity.
One large tear pooled on her lower eyelid before spilling down her cheek, as she realized nobody was coming. The dam burst forth as that single tear escaped her baby blue eyes, and she began sobbing with abandon.
It was time to take her place with the other students, but with no one to sing for, she dissolved at my feet, unable to go on. Feeling every bit of that same devastation, I took her hand and resolved that we would do this together and that she would not be alone.
Amid flashing cameras, bustling chatter, bright lights, and childish banter, the pounding of my heart was louder than it all. I held that little hand and bid us both to be strong. And she sang, her tiny hand tightly gripping my three fingers.
I realized then that I had made a difference.
And you can do the same.
You are equipped with gifts and talents, and you can invest your treasures into the lives of others. Making a difference happens when we make a commitment to show up. We can do this by writing cards, posting words of encouragement on Facebook, composing blog posts, volunteering with V.B.S., the nursery, or in senior centers, youth groups, or by simply speaking grace into someone’s day with a phone call.
Making a difference is vital, as we point others to Christ and reflect His glory. We are the city on the hill. Together, we can do this thing better.
“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” Eph 2:10
Rosa Hopkins is a writer of words, a singer of songs, and a dreamer of dreams. Her radio program, Mountain Heartbeat, airs on WEMM 107.9 in Huntington, WV, and her work has been featured in the Huffington Post and in print newspapers. She is also a recording artist, and her songs have been played on radio stations across the country. She lives in the woods of Appalachia with her husband, miracle baby, Jack Russell, and a shapeless hound named Lou.