Clouds creep close together slowly blocking the afternoon sun. Young and old gather at the cafe for hot chocolate and soup. It's a beehive of activity when a man in a denim coat steps through the red train car door and approaches me saying, "I need to talk to you for a minute."
"What can I do for you?" I ask.
"I heard you have a food pantry here or something...I just got laid off from my job and I'm havin' a tough time right now, man."
"Yeah...we do," I reply. "We also have some fresh bread up here. Go through it, take what you need, and then meet me downstairs."
Together, we raid the shelves of the cafe pantry like hungry teens on a sleep-over attacking mom's fridge at night. It was nearly a robbery, and it's a good thing no one saw us. They would've called the police.
We knock over canned goods and rummage through cans of coffee and boxes of tea. Bags of chips fall clumsily from our hands. The man in the denim coat stuffs plastic grocery bags with nourishment tearing one of the bags. I top off the ripped bag with four rolls of toilet paper. (You all know how I feel about toilet paper.)
We shake hands. And he leaves thanking me and wishing me a God Bless You.
An older gentleman drops in to give the cafe a special donation to help pay the rent. (We still need more.)
Afterwards, a mother chases her two little girls into the cafe. Mom enjoys a chicken salad sandwich on white bread while her children crunch popcorn with mouths missing two front teeth. They wash down their afternoon snack with green kool-aid. The chins of those two precious girls barely clear the top of the coffee bar. Their toothless smiles push back the curtains of clouds and the sun once again shines through the dusty cafe windows.
My wife and daughter stop in on their way to the library.
"I missed you today," Mindee says. She hugs me and gently kisses my cheek.
Teenagers pile in the cafe. And I have a chance to talk to them about music and Christian music and about the love of God found in Jesus Christ. Yesterday, I delightfully discharged all the duties of my ministry.
It was a good day.
My heavenly Father always manages to provide the financial support for my family and for the cafe. I am thankful, but mission work is hard. And yet I'm reminded to endure hardship as if navigating dangerous seas in search of a safe harbor. Most days I wish the source of my salary, and the money needed for the cafe, was more like a calm ocean, a safe port, a place of peace and rest and lacking danger rather than rough seas. (Maybe someday.)
I remember from my days in the Navy how unspeakably beautiful a calm ocean is. It's like a glassy mirror. It's perfectly flat without disruption. I'm not exaggerating. An ocean like that will lull you to sleep. But my support level may never get to that place and that's okay. Again, I'm reminded to endure with a thankful heart. There is a great reward awaiting those who endure rough seas. The reward is an unbreakable promise.
I hope you've come to realize that the reward for enduring hardship is truly worth it. Don't give up. Don't stop sailing just because your journey is stormy. Endure hardship. Oh how I pray you'll endure.
I've cleaned out a special room in my heart for the letters written by Paul to Timothy. Mainly because my name is Timothy (silly...I know). But I read them as if the postman just delivered them to my mailbox today.
Paul reminds me, "But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry" (NIV, 2 Timothy 4:5).
Share below what you're enduring with a thankful heart.