Miss Deb is so consistent at church events of any kind, that I’d be concerned if one day I arrived, and she wasn’t that steady fixture at the entryway I've come to expect. I’d assume she was abducted or lying quiet on her death bed before I’d ever believe she skipped an event on purpose.
A few years ago I received a phone call from an unknown number. The caller left a message and it turned out to be her:
Happy Birthday, Miss Meg. I know you’re busy, but I wanted you to know that I’m thankful for you. I hope you have a great day.
She hasn’t missed a year since. She calls for church members' birthdays, anniversaries, condolences...you name it.
There are a few things you should know about the infamous Miss Deb. Five years ago she faced death itself, as a brain aneurism did it’s best to send her home to glory. An eight percent chance of survival, she’ll tell you that she should have been a goner, save God’s plan to keep her around a little longer.
These days, Deb doesn’t drive. Despite her previous work in construction, she can’t do a lot of manual labor or activities that require a high degree of stamina. She doesn’t live in a big house that can accommodate lots of people for parties and she’s older than some.
But she has a phone.
She has a phone, a voice that rings consistent and kind, and a sacred calling. You belong, is her message. I see you and so does God, is the gift.
What a powerful ministry.
In the ever-increasing noise, it's easy to overlook the "Miss Debs" of the world, who practice quiet, behind-the-scenes service. We judge ourselves and others on humble offerings, falling prey to comparison to people who are doing big, public things--who are praised in the community and complimented often. Folks who are visible. Strong. Clever. Fashionable. Well-connected.
In the book of Zechariah, few acknowledge or appreciate the temple builder's efforts to lay the first bricks of the foundation. Yet an angel relays this message:
Do not despise these small beginnings…for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin… (Zech. 4:10, Amp.)
Three years ago in September, I sat right here in front of this computer, with nothing but a Bible, a little training, and an unyielding burden to encourage women. Today my nose wrinkles as I pour over the rudimentary sentences these novice hands typed onto the keyboard that day. It was a small beginning. It still is, I suppose.
Know that I find joy in these moments spent praying and writing to you, dear readers, and I renew my promise to love you to the best of my ability in the upcoming year.
Now I'm inviting you to have a giggle with me, pretend I was the best writer you ever stumbled upon, and revisit one of the first blogs ever posted here at the Gritty Pearl. It may not read as catchy as some, but it’s as true today as it ever was back then.
What about you, do you have a phone? A kitchen? Two capable hands? A little cash in your pocket?
What’s your "Miss Deb" calling?
Our God rejoices to see your work begin.
With you and for you,
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Photo Cred: Diego PH
M.S. in Marriage and Family Therapy. Earns Crossfit participation trophies. Disaster cook. Enthusiastic wife. #Boymom. Clutches her faith, not her pearls.