jim and holly

In the last year and a half or so I have done a lot of work on the remodel of our church. When I was a kid this church was one of tradesmen and farmers. Now there are a few electricians and a couple of old construction generalists. Most are computer geeks of one sort or other, it seems.

I am one of those old generalist guys. We are the last of a breed I am told.

When the remodel project began I was interested in protecting Miriam’s stained glass window, and I volunteered to do the work so I could protect that window.

And I had the skills necessary. Lots of cabinet skills, tile, painting, some carpentry, carpet, and so on.

It has been a labor of love for the most part, but now I am getting tired (and we are almost finished with this phase, and the money that was raised for the work has been spent).

Any way, last summer as I was working Jim showed up (this is the same Jim we lost last christmas). He walked with a cane, but he had that million dollar smile. He offered me a envelop.

“I cannot help, so this is my part.” It was a check, large enough to be serious, but not so large as to mess with my life or head! I was impressed with his smile and his attitude. I used it as part payment on my new MacBook.

A while back Holly (the same one I mentioned a couple of weeks ago) asked me if I would accept a gift for the work I had done, a gift of appreciation. I told her that I thought a big part of christian grace was receiving grace, as well as giving it, and yes, from her I would.

I mentioned her words to David and pretty well forgot about it.

Today as I came into church, Holly caught me. “I want to talk to you after church.”

I am not an official deacon now, but the deacon of the month was having trouble getting bodies, so he asked me to take the offering.

As luck would have it, Holly and her family were sitting at the back of the section I was serving. As I came by she pushed a folded paper into my hand and smiled. I thanked her, not knowing what she had given me, but some how remembering our conversation.

When I returned to my seat I looked at the paper. It was a check. Like Jim’s it was enough to be taken seriously, but not enough to corrupt my life!

I told her later that, more than anything, it was the motive of her gift (and Jim’s before) that was most appreciated, and that I was humbled by her gift.

When you do a huge volunteer project, it is easy to think no one notices and no one cares. I know they do notice and Holly showed me that they also care.

Soon I’ll post a series of pictures of the remodel and Miriam's stained glass window.