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Dear Saints:                                                                              May 2002

I still remember the first day my Dad offered me the chance to help him cut the grass.  I was watching him in the backyard when the offer came.  Of course I jumped at the opportunity. I don’t remember how old I was but I do recall that the handle of the lawnmower was well above my head and I could barely hold on to it even on tiptoes but I managed to and was able to push it forward (barely).  Needless to say I really couldn’t see where I was going and the yard testified to that fact.  But onward I trudged because my Dad was watching and I wanted to please him.  As the summers went by the handle of the lawn mower became easier to reach as I had grown and no longer needed to stand on my tiptoes to push it forward.  In fact, once I was able to actually see where I was going the task of cutting the grass became easy.  However, the easier the task of cutting the grass became, the more tedious and boring it also became.  What had started as fun now became work.  At first when I “solo-ed” I was so proud because my Dad must have thought of me as a big boy, able to cut the grass by myself, without his supervision.  But now he never watched and now I was expected to cut the grass.  It became part of my chores. 

My attitude toward cutting the grass was, to say the least, lousy.   As I cut mile after mile of unending lawn in the hot sun I promised myself that when I grew up and left the house I would never cut anybody’s grass again.  And for a while I kept that promise to myself, but as you well know grass grows just about everywhere and eventually it caught up with me.  When I came home from Bible College with my family we stayed at a church in Illinois waiting for our visas to go to Africa.  As you probably guessed, I was asked to cut the grass at the church that summer.   “You’ve got to be kidding,” I thought.  Maybe the Pastor forgot who I was and where I was going, surely he was asking me to find someone to cut the grass.  He found someone all right – me.  So my love affair with lawns began again.  I hated every moment of it and needless to say as the grass got shorter my bad attitude grew.  That season, as I cut the grass at the church in Illinois I had no idea that it was only the beginning for me.  Since that time it has been my lot to cut the grass at every church and every place I have served our Heavenly Father.

These days I cut the grass at Zion City Church. Ironically the only thing that has changed over the years besides the yard and the lawnmower is the fact that I have returned to my boyish love of cutting grass.  You see, the first time I cut the grass it was to impress my Dad and see his face beam with joy and pride that I was growing into a young man.  Now I cut the grass looking into the face of my heavenly Father and listening for his voice in my heart saying “well done”.  I have learned that a job that seems insignificant, like cutting the grass, when done with a pure heart and a right attitude, is a sacrifice of praise unto the Lord.  I know some day God will give us a different person to cut the grass at Zion and when that person comes he or she too will know the feeling of joy I experience every summer out in the yard!   God calls us to be faithful in the little things.  May God bless you, as you stay faithful and obedient to Him.  Zion City Church celebrates eight years in St. Louis on Mother’s Day!  We give God all the glory for he is doing great things in our lives and in our city!