(For the first post in this mini-series, see here.)
What is it like to run a church toddler group? Let me tell you what it’s like.
It’s like this: on the morning of the group, your husband leaves for work before your kids wake. Your kids wake, and the youngest needs a feed. Rendered incapable of doing anything ‘useful’, you sit and read to your eldest, wondering just when your youngest will have had her fill, as the clock ticks on and the list of things you need to do in order to get everyone out of the house fully dressed gets no shorter.
Eventually the feed ends. There is no time for a shower, let alone make up or straight hair. Yesterday’s clothes are dragged over three tired and mainly unwilling bodies. Breakfast is chomped down at speed. Teeth are cleaned, buggy/scooter/helmet/coat/shoes debacle begins – and ends – and eventually we leave the house. Charging down the street, it becomes apparent that the buggy may have a puncture, although it’s difficult to tell because it’s so laden down with bags – the kids’ lunches, snacks and cake for the group, story props, books for the lending library… Regardless, there is no time to stop – it’s past 8.30 and that’s late enough, although usually we’d still be in our pyjamas at this time.
We arrive at the hall and carry myriad toys, heavy carpets and books down one flight of stairs. We shift chairs, tables and screens. We lay out books, prepare the craft activity, set up for story time. We make drinks, chop up fruit, put out cups and plates of biscuits. I dash off to take the eldest to preschool. At 10 o’clock I’m sweaty and exhausted and feel like I’ve done a day’s work already – but the doors are only just about to open. And open they do – to a swarm of glamorous mums who had time to do their hair and make up, and didn’t sweat through all their layers in order to set up the room. Then it’s two hours of heavy socialising, followed by another 45 minutes spent reversing the work of a couple of sentences ago, in order to make the hall a pleasant place again.
This is, of course, a slight exaggeration (writer’s license) – not all of the above happens every single week, and I’m happy to say the youngest is now weaned. I didn’t mention the incredible buzz that I feel every Tuesday morning: when I first get out of bed, when I leave the house, when I get to the hall, when doors open. Tuesday Tots is an amazing group of parents and carers, and I love every minute we’re there!
But this doesn’t change the simple reflection that running a toddler group is hard graft. Physically, mentally and emotionally, it’s exhausting, humbling and sometimes even demeaning. Why do it? Why serve other mums when we’re struggling enough with our own families?
Recently, I’ve been reading Paul’s letters, and have been struck by how often he refers to hard work – either his own work, or that of others. I’m struck by how much of it seems to be physical graft – it’s not all about preaching and praying – and passages like this one, from 2 Corinthians 6 (using the Message translation), have really encouraged me that our efforts are not in vain:
Our work as God’s servants gets validated—or not—in the details. People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly . . . in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we’re beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we’re telling the truth, and when God’s showing his power; when we’re doing our best setting things right; when we’re praised, and when we’re blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.
If you’re involved in a ministry which just feels like hard work, perhaps these verses will encourage you too. Just imagine the impact that your lifting and carrying, pushing and pulling, setting up and packing down, could be having in eternity. When we’re feeling at our weakest, our generous God gives us His strength and energy. When we choose to give this back in service to others, they see His grace towards them. They see the God who created the universe, yet washes our feet. And this may just change their lives. Let’s believe it!