This morning I woke up having a dream. It was the kind of dream that you begin having in your sleep and find yourself having awoken somewhere in the middle whereafter your brain decides to finish the dream on its own before getting your body out of bed; sort of like that moment when you step off of the moving sidewalk at the airport and you realize a split second later then you should have that you need to start walking in order to keep moving.
In my dream I was standing in the worship center at church during Pastor Gabbert’s sermon, about half way back of the section to the right of center. My first impression was that this was odd. Then I realized that this was one of Michael’s experimental sermons where he gives the microphone to the congregation and has us preach the sermon through our testimonies. In my dream, I was very relieved as I noticed the microphone being conducted in my direction.
I took the microphone from Pastor Mike. At least I think it was Pastor Mike. Either it was Pastor Mike with glasses or Pastor Phil with a beard. Dreams are strange like that. So I took the microphone and began giving my testimony.
“Does anybody else here get the impression that Pastor Gabbert really, really has it together; but that somewhere deep down, way back where nobody can see it, he has the capacity to freak out; and when he does it’s like the mother of all freak outs?” I’m serious, this is how I started my testimony. “Well if you get that impression too, don’t look at him for the next five minutes. You can look at him in six, but don’t look at him for the next five.
“I’m Adrian Martin, and I’m the AWANA Commander.” Having attended AA meetings as a child my mind conjures up somebody saying, “Hi Adrian” to which I give a little chuckle. “I’m the AWANA Commander, but I have to admit, I don’t feel like a good one. I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job reaching these kids. It’s all about the kids, and I feel like there’s got to be somebody in this church who can do this better than me. Basically for that reason I’ve considered resigning my position as AWANA Commander for a while; about a year in fact.
“I didn’t come to this decision lightly or without a lot of prayer. However, ask yourself if you’ve ever found yourself doing this.” Getting into a prayerful posture with my head bowed and eyes closed I began praying into the microphone. “’God, what have you done?,’ like I’m his mom or something. ‘God, you’ve really made a mistake putting me into this position. I’m not any good at it. I don’t know how to motivate people. I don’t know how to really get through to these kids. God, I’m making it up down here. Could you give me a hand? Tell me where to go? What the right thing to do is?’ at which point I do this.” I put the microphone into my front pocket, and with face uplifted to the heavens, I clench my eyes shut and bury my fingers in my ears.
“What’s that God? I’m having trouble hearing you,” I yell at the ceiling without the aid of the microphone. After a few seconds, my posture slackens into a dejected pose as I regain a handle on the mic saying, “I guess he’s not got anything to say to me about this.” So in the absence of a clear reply from God, I move forward, acting on my feelings and my conviction that surely a better man will step up, and inform the Pastor that I don’t want to do this anymore.
“Heh, heh. Now God decides to have a little fun.
“Several weeks ago we held our annual AWANA Grand Prix. It’s a pinewood derby for the kids where we all can get together at the church, have some fun, and give the kids some awards; some of which are pretty silly. My favorite is, ‘The best car that’s shaped like the block of wood that it started out as award.’ The saga of getting the track is another story altogether.
“Anyway we had our AWANA Grand Prix which, like all other extracurricular AWANA events, is designed to bring in moms and dads and brothers and sisters who may have never been to church or at least could stand to hear the Gospel message again. Being that this is the actual point of the event, we sorta need to have a speaker to do the presentation. I think to myself, ‘You know, talking in front of people is not that different than singing in front of people, and besides, all the AWANA events I’ve ever been to have essentially the same message. The presenter goes through some version of the Gospel Wheel, which is a pneumonic device to remember some of the key verses that illuminate the path to salvation, and relates that to a personal experience. No problem.’
“And that’s what I really thought. Even on Monday of that week, I was thinking to myself that I didn’t need to worry about putting anything together. It would just fall into place. That’s some serious faith for a guy with his fingers in his ears! Although I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a better message that I needed to deliver so I didn’t really commit to preparing that first message.
“Thursday night I had a revelation, mind you the Grand Prix is on Saturday morning. God had shown me what I was going to talk about. Although, as I was lying in bed that night thinking about this message, it dawned on me that it was actually more of a sermon. You know, my first sermon ever…no seminary, no training, no nothing. So I did what I’m sure all scared young pastors do before their first sermons; nothing. No prep, no outline, no nothing. I was just going to give this one to God and let him run with it.
“Well Saturday morning after I had gotten all the stuff set up for the Grand Prix I had a panic attack and feverishly made something like an outline for this sermon I was going to deliver. Relieved, I went about conducting the event up to the point where I was to give the message. I got up on the platform and immediately felt like I had walked into the women’s restroom. You need to go to the restroom. You get to the restroom. You are horrified at your mistake and scream to yourself, ‘How am I going to get out of here?’ That was what the realization felt like when I discovered that singing in front of people and speaking in front of people…not the same!
“So I dive into it, and while I’m speaking I look out at the people and notice several things. Every adult in the audience has more life experience than me. So I say to myself, ‘Who am I to be giving insight about life to these people.’ It doesn’t help that one of them is squinting her eyes and furrowing her brow like I’m speaking badly in English like it’s not my first language. Also, and I think this is a universal constant, there’s a segment of the audience that is all kids; sort of like the ‘Youth Section’ in every church I’ve ever been to. And, I think this is a universal constant as well, the level of attention from that direction was somewhat less than sharp.
“All of these thoughts going on behind the thoughts you’re trying to convey does a number on your grammar by the way.
“So I finish. I’m sure I don’t even remember the last half of what I said, but I made it. Time sort of warped by, and we finished up the Grand Prix.
“I was standing off to the side while a couple of our ladies were doing the awards presentations. I didn’t notice that one of the dads had come up to me until he said, ‘Hey, what you said just now, that really meant a lot.’ And he proceeded to tell me about how he’d been out of work for several months, how this had gotten him really down, and that it was having a major negative effect on his marriage. He said that what I had to say had reinvigorated him to pick himself up and carry on again.” At this point I knock on the microphone three times and in my best God voice I say, “Can you hear me now?”
“Now I know that should have been the rapture moment when the heavens opened and the angel choir sang, but it wasn’t. It seemed more like God was just saying, ‘Yes I heard you.’ Now am I the only person that imagines a twinkle in God’s eye when He says things like that?
“A couple of weeks later in Sunday school this same man sits down next to me only now he’s got this big ‘ol grin on his face. ‘You know that Saturday a couple weeks back when you gave that message? Well that next week I got an interview! I started the next week! I’ve only been there,’ and honestly I don’t remember how long he said, but it was less than two weeks. ‘…and it’s been a better experience then the twelve years I just put in at the last place!’” I knock on the microphone again. “Can you hear me now?” I say again in my God voice. “Only this time it was that revelation.”
“What I’ve learned is this, as the AWANA Commander, it is all about the kids, but not really. You see my primary job as leader of this ministry is not to DO the ministry. I’ve been trying to figure out a better way to DO the ministry, and I’ve been frustrated by my ineffectiveness; sometimes to the point of actively disengaging. What I need to be doing is encouraging and invigorating the leaders in our program so that they can better DO the ministry. This does not come naturally to me. I was always the player. I’ve never been the coach, and I don’t really know how do it. Also, I need to be encouraging the church, you guys, so that you can help us DO the ministry too.
“All that starts with my testimony to you that God has trusted me to do this work, I believe he will empower me to do this work, and with His help and your support I am now committed to being the best AWANA Commander that we can have at this church.”
