“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might!”
Ahh! I love the smell of coffee in the morning. Sitting in the teacher/volunteer workroom today, I also smell my next favorite smell, rubber cement (I’m weird I know). Today my hands find themselves finishing up a project I started last week. Currently, I am cutting out pumpkins, leaves, stems, and pages to create 19 pumpkin books for the Kindergarten class. The students will use these books to color and study the germination process of pumpkins. Today, I glued on the finishing touches, the leaves and stems. No pumpkin patch is complete without a friendly scarecrow. After this project, I will begin cutting out the pieces for the class to assemble a scarecrow.
I love this! My career as a pharmacist requires me to be meticulous in nature. There is no room for error when it comes to patient’s medication. Therefore, I love volunteering in this capacity. It is relaxing. I consider it such a privilege to serve another year as a teacher’s aide for Mrs. Conner.
“May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands. Yes, establish the work of our hands.”
While I work on the pumpkin books, I find myself praying over each pumpkin and for each child who will color these books. I pray for Mrs. Conner and the other teachers and staff at school. I also pray for these children’s families and home life. But more importantly, I pray that each child will come to know the Lord and not to just know of God, but to have a relationship with the Holy Trinity: God the Father, Jesus Christ his son, and the Holy Spirit.
Almost immediately, I have a sharp realization that these pumpkin books (which have taken me hours to assemble) will quickly be found abandoned at the bottom of a book bag or thrown away. I know because I don’t keep every treasure that comes home from my children.
The workroom is getting warm and the smell of rubber cement, coffee, and printer toner is a recipe for a headache, so I prop the door open. Instantly, I hear singing drifting down the hallway. The song takes me take to my childhood….
“I’m in the Lord’s Army. Yes sir!
I’m in the Lord’s Army. Yes sir!
I may never march in the infantry,
Ride with the calvary,
Shoot the artillery.
I may never fly over the enemy,
But I’m in the Lord’s Army.
Today is September eleventh. The weight of this tragic anniversary is heavy on my mind. I pray for those who were directly affected by this event and I pray for our military. I’ve never served in the armed forces. The Lord’s Army will be the only branch of special forces I will serve. I smile as I sing along. My feet automatically begin to march to the tune. My hands pretend I’m riding a horse, shooting a gun, and zooming over the enemy. Like the children down the hall I finish the song with a salute and a “Yes Sir!” As I sing I think to myself…
I may never be the perfect wife,
Be a patient mother,
I may never understand Kinetics,
Nor dose vancomycin.
I may never master the violin,
Nor be a published writer.
But I’m in the Lord’s Army!
I may never be a great theologian,
Wins souls like Billy Graham.
I may never serve like Mother Teresa,
But I’m in the Lord’s Army!
“Every prayer rests before God’s throne in a golden bowl full of incense, the prayer of God’s people.” Revelation 5:8
From the quietness of the teacher workroom God speaks. He reminds me that my work, although not on the front lines, is important. The prayers I’ve breathed over these pumpkins for others will not be tossed aside. While the construction paper projects will eventually get thrown away, God reminds me that prayers are never wasted. He reminds me that he collects all the prayers from His saint’s and uses them as potpourri in heaven! This morning, the aroma of coffee, rubber cement, and printer toner filled the air. That same aroma when mixed with a patch of pumpkin prayers ascended to heaven and now serve as God’s aromatherapy. God reminded me no matter what my hand’s find to do, remember I’m in the Lord’s Army. Yes Sir!
“May you and I be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.” Romans 1:12