Last week I was in the grocery store. Early. Like, 6:15 a.m. early.
I was buying donuts for a group of 6th grade girls who come to my house every Friday morning for a Bible study before school. And, of course, little girls need fuel and what better fuel than Entenmann’s cakey goodness?
As I was going through the self-checkout line (because I was once again in the store in my sweats and no makeup) a young man who works in the store came up to me.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“Oh, just buying some donuts.”
“Well, I have a group of girls coming over this morning, and I want to make sure they get something to eat before they head off to school.”
“What time do they come?”
“Really? Seven o’clock in the morning? Why do they come so early?”
So I explained to him that we have a little Bible study before school.
“Well, it’s too early,” he said.
I kind of laughed and said something like, “Oh, it’s O.K. We do our study, the girls head off to school, and I can get on with my day.”
And then he asked me the question I’d been dreading. “Why do you do it?”
At this point I knew I had a choice. I could either just brush it off and say something like “Oh, it’s fun” or something like that. But I also knew I could use that brief moment to give this guy something to think about that day.
Now, believe me, I am the person who would usually choose the “Oh, it’s fun” avenue. It’s just too much trouble or vulnerability or embarrassment--I'm not even sure those adjectives describe it--to actually tell someone the real reason I choose to have eight 6th grade girls in my home at 7:00 every Friday morning.
But I’ve been trying lately to listen to what God’s telling me to do, so I took a deep breath and dove in. I said, “Well, I do it because I love these girls, and I love God, and I want them to love
He thought about that for a second, let it sink in, and then he said, “Well, I still think it’s too early.”