Of Stoves, Crockpots, and Hangnails | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Of Stoves, Crockpots, and Hangnails | Previous Challenge Entry
By Shanon Hinkel
04/13/09
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Church was really crowded that day. I stood, following along with the worship words flashing across the big screen. At least there were a lot of people around me singing, so that I could pretty much mouth the words and not have to actually join in. My mind leapt from one topic to the next as the music droned on. The shoes I had picked out for today were not the most comfortable ones I owned. I could feel the balls of my feet throbbing as I stood in place.

Finally. The singing was over and I could sit. I barely noticed when Brother Tom approached the pulpit. Had I forgotten to turn off the stove from breakfast? Did I put enough water in the crock pot before we left the house this morning? Nothing worse than a dried out roast. I checked my watch. I had a hangnail on my right pinky finger that required my immediate attention. I simply can’t stand to have a hangnail.

What was that? Brother Tom was saying something about the church being lukewarm. Shame. I wondered again about the roast cooking at home. And, did I remember to switch the laundry over before we left?

Then it was fellowship time. Everyone was visiting. My chance for a restroom break. I slipped out the side door in an attempt to get there before a line formed.

I was able to get in and out of the restroom pretty quickly, so I was making my way back when I saw them: a woman and a little girl, holding hands and looking around the foyer as if they were lost.

“Good morning,” I smiled at the woman, and glanced down at the little girl. “I’m Shanon.” I held my hand out to her expectantly, thinking that she might have a question for me. Maybe she was looking for the sanctuary? Although, I couldn’t imagine that being hard to find. It was right behind us, and people were still bustling about, exuberantly enjoying the fellowship time.

“I’m Cassie, and this is my daughter, Jessica.” Cassie closed her eyes then, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. I was taken aback by her sudden emotional response. What should I say?

“Are you here to join us for worship?” It was a ridiculous question to ask her, but I could think of nothing else to say. I stood watching her for a few seconds. The crowd inside the sanctuary was returning to their seats.

“You have no idea how long we’ve wanted to come.” Cassie opened her eyes and I handed her a tissue from a nearby box. “You see, my husband won’t allow it. He’d kill us if we knew where we were.”

I looked down at Jessica. Her wide blue eyes did not flinch as her mother said the words. I had no idea how to respond. Give me the words, Lord.

“You’re in the right place.” I took Cassie’s hand and led her and Jessica into the sanctuary. As soon as we got inside, they slipped into two seats near the back. I winked at Jessica as I made my way back to my own seat beside my family.

I could not see Cassie or Jessica once I sat down. I promised myself that I would make my way back there to speak to them again once the service ended. But as soon as the last song was finished, Cassie and Jessica were gone.

I don’t remember what Brother Tom’s sermon was about that day. What I do remember was looking at my family: my husband and my two boys, and crying out to God for forgiveness for taking so many things for granted. The Lord had reached down to me that day, and thawed my ice cold heart through the plight of a woman and her little girl. Why did He bother to do it? Why didn’t He just leave me that way, beyond lukewarm and indifferent?

I will never forget the looks on their faces that morning, so happy and relieved to finally be in the house of worship that they so craved. I will be ever grateful to the Lord for igniting the fire inside of me that longs to know Him. So, what if I did leave that stove on or I didn’t put enough water in the crock pot... and what about that hangnail? Well, God is more than able to take care of those things, too.

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