A Different Kind of Yes

These days, we are still tested often. Are we who we say we are? I think the underlying question is still the same. When the kids would ask if they could take home all our peanut butter, it was never about the peanut butter. Are we going to take their request seriously? Are we going to show up? Provide? Love? 

That summer night a couple years ago when kids were surrounding my car with eggs in their hands and excitement in their eyes, is a night I hope I never forget. There was a yard full of kids asking us to be different. Different than all the other adults in their lives.

Sometimes I feel like nothing has really changed since our egg throwing night. It does not feel like it was all that long ago, but I have been thinking lately about how the crazy requests have started to slow down.  Maybe, just maybe, the absurd questions are not as frequent because people are starting to believe us. They are expecting us to show up. They are trusting that we are who we have been saying we are.

When a kid walks into church with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging down, maybe he knows that we are going to sit with him until he is ready to talk about it.

When a kid stomps out of the trailer on a youth night, maybe she knows we are going to chase her down to figure out what’s up.

When a mom calls us in despair with no idea what to do, maybe she knows that we will lend an ear and pray with her.

When a neighbor is going through a tough time, maybe he knows that there is a friendly smile and a wave sitting on the porch across the street. 

For the last year or so, I have been encouraging my church small group to be different than the people around them. Different than the drama, gossip, negativity, and hurt. I have been challenging them to be different without even thinking about the possibility that those around me might be looking to me to see just what “different” might look like. I think I often underestimate the power of my day to day actions, thinking that the impact is dictated by the bigger moments, but that’s really not true at all.

You see, over the last couple of years, the questions have changed. They know we will usually say yes to an impromptu painting night or a snack on the porch or entire jars of peanut butter. Now they are asking us to be different. Will you listen to me when I feel like no one hears me? Will you love me when I feel abandoned? Will you accept me even when I feel like I have failed? Will you be different?

And the truth is, I am human. I do not always get it right. I have nights when I choose Netflix and quiet over conversation. I have moments where I respond the wrong way or act impulsively. Being different has to be a conscious choice. But at the end of the day, I hope that I can almost always answer a strong, resounding YES. Yes, I see you. Yes, I hear you. Yes, I love you.

-Alyssa