The Faithfulness Award

We have a new plaque on the mantle of our fireplace. It says:

The Faithfulness Award
Ian Eyre
For your faithful service and unseen ministry to the Body of Christ

Ian got this plaque a few weeks ago at our twice-yearly leadership development time at Mosaic, our church home. Our pastors and paid staff like to recognize people who are contributing in a positive way to encourage them to continue pursuing the character of Christ. So out of the three thousand some people who attend Mosaic and the five or six hundred people who are considered to be a part of our leadership core, Ian was one of around ten to be recognized as those who exemplify faithfulness.

I wasn't surprised when Ian's name was called. That's my man. Faithfulness is such a great descriptor for him. In fact, I think it was one of the qualities about him that showed me that he was a man of substance (no, not the beautiful piercing blue eyes and the superb height which initially drew my eye). Thus, not surprised, but very, very proud to call him my husband.

Right after my swell of pride that what I saw in Ian had been recognized by others, I felt this little pang. I had this feeling that I had passed my prime. My time of ministry to the body of Christ was over. When I was a single girl, I could pour myself out in service to people in my community, at work, etc. But I'm not a single girl anymore. I have a husband and a son who I believe must take precedence over others.

In the middle of my self-absorbed musings, a passage creeped into my mind. I had been studying Proverbs 31 in an attempt to seek a model for what it means to be a godly wife and mother. See, in this passage, the writer lists all these things that this "wife of noble character" does. And smack in the middle of this very, very long list of amazing things that one woman surely couldn't do on her own, it says "Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land." And I realized that this is what I must do to move into my new prime, my new time. I may not be able to serve with abandon at Mosaic any more (pre-emptive aside: I do expect to continue serving, just not in such an all-consuming way). But I can pursue becoming a woman of noble character and serve my family so that my husband can continue to increase in his impact on the kingdom of God.

So all this is going on in my head while others were being recognized for their specific contributions to the body of Christ at Mosaic. Then they got to the last award - the Leadership Award. Pastor Erwin always mentions that people who are recognized with this award are at such a high level of commitment to service that they usually end up going overseas for full-time Christian work or joining the team of pastors or are called to be Elders. And he named Marvin and Jean. Again, no surprise. This couple has served people so fervently and been such a model of loving sacrifice. Lives have changed through their influence. And I had a new pang. I wanted that award. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that in a "I wanna be a superstar" kind of way. I just saw a new model to emulate. See, it was so clear to many of us that they are an amazing team, that they have impacted people, and that they do it out of passionate love for Jesus. In other words, they deserved that kind of recognition. Yet they went up to receive their award in a state of shock and truly deep emotion. What Jean said was so striking. It was something like, "I can't believe you're honoring us for just loving people, when it's so easy to love people." So maybe I don't really mean that I want the Leadership Award. Instead, I think I mean that I want to be like Marvin and Jean. I want to be devoted to teaming with my husband so that I bring out his best and he brings out my best. I want to invest in my son (and other future children) so that he (they) journey with us in sharing the love of Jesus with others.

So maybe I shouldn't think about being past my prime. Maybe I don't consider my time as being gone. Because this isn't about me. Instead, it may be about our prime being yet to come, our time just beginning.

Clarice