Our church in Georgia met in a big school gymnasium with a beautiful hardwood floor. The school actually belonged to the church, but at that time, we did not have a nice church building in which to hold services. So every Wednesday afternoon and Saturday evening, someone set up chairs for services. Then after services, the chairs were put away again because the gym was used for sporting activities during the school day.
That gymnasium was a multipurpose room. In the summer, they converted it into a skating rink, which they opened every Friday night from 7 to 9:00 p.m. They even had skates for rent at $5 per person or $15 for the whole family, so it was an incredibly affordable evening that brought together a lot of church families week after week. While the kids skated, the adults enjoyed great fellowship. And it gave folks something safe and fun to do every Friday evening throughout the summer.
Most Friday nights I took the kids skating. I believe the kids were ages 6, 9, and 11. One particular evening I also had the kids of a single dad from our church. John was 14 and Judy was 17. So the six of us piled into my van and headed to the church. It was only a ten minute drive, but most of it was on a highway with a 55 mph speed limit. Two-thirds of the way there, the van suddenly jerked and made a funny sound. Thumpity – thumpity – thumpity. I said, “What’s that noise?” John informed me that I had a flat tire.
I thought, Great. I immediately pulled onto the shoulder of the road. As we piled out of the van, I told the kids that it looked like we were hoofing it the rest of the way. (Floyd was out of town. This was before cell phones. And there was no place along the highway to call for help if I’d wanted to. So we were walking.) Not wanting to lose any of their precious skating time, John, Toby, and Jamie took off at a run to get to the church. I told my kids to tell them that I was on the way and I would pay for their skate rental when I got there. Then Judy and I took Michelle’s hands and started walking.
It took us thirty minutes to get there. The instant I walked through the door, Toby and Jamie skated over to me and said, “Mom, how are we getting home?” I told them not to worry about it; I would take care of it. Then I paid for the rental of three pairs of skates, helped Michelle on with her skates, and sent her out into the rink. Once the kids were all taken care of, I stopped to talk to a couple of the men from our church, explaining my dilemma and asking if they’d be able to change my tire for me. They said, “Sure. Where’s the van?” I told them where I’d left it parked and handed them the keys. They left the gymnasium.
A few minutes later, Toby and Jamie, once again, skated over to me and said, “Mom, what are we going to do? How are we going to get home?” I said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m taking care of it.” Of course they were worried about it. In their young minds, how could I be taking care of it when I never left the gym? So a little while later, here they come again with the same question. My answer to them was the same as before. Now, my youngest enjoyed her evening and simply trusted Mom to take care of her. And John and Judy just assumed that I would take care of our transportation need, so neither of them gave it a second thought.
While the kids were skating, the men who had gone to change my tire entered the gymnasium and handed me the van keys. “You’re parked right out front,” they told me.
When skating was over, my older two kids changed into their gym shoes, returned the skates, and said to me, “Mom, how are we getting home?” As we pushed through the door into the warm night air, Toby and Jamie exclaimed, “Hey, there’s the van. How did it get here?” I told them.
Isn’t that how we are with God so many times? We want to see what He’s doing. We want to know how He’s handling something. We’re not content with the answer, “Don’t worry. I’m taking care of it.” (And He always does.) We often worry needlessly because we don’t see anything happening. But God usually works quietly; behind the scenes.
On the way home, I found out that John knew how to change a tire. I said, “Why didn’t you tell me?” He said, “If I had changed the tire, I would have been late for skating.” Such is the life of a 14-year old boy. That also explains his lack of concern. It wouldn’t have bothered him one bit to hike back to the van and change the tire after he was through skating.