by Linda Tomblin
“For by the grace given to me, I tell everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he should think” (Rom. 12:3a).
It started when I was asked to take my preschool Sunday School class again for the coming year. Each year it had gotten harder to keep up with the lively group, so I declined. After making sure I was serious, they began looking for a new teacher.
My replacement, a lady in her early 20s, had been a member of our church for a little over a year. “Perfect!” everyone said. I wasn’t so sure, but I tried to push aside my misgivings. I told the older ladies’ class I was looking forward to joining them.
On the new teacher’s first Sunday, I stopped by the classroom to make sure all was going well. The children begged me to stay, but before long they were crowding around their new teacher to see the activity she’d planned. The next Sunday I dropped by again just to see if she needed help. Since I was already late, it really made no sense for me not to stay. And so it went for several Sundays.
One day the teacher from the ladies’ class approached me. “We’ve been looking forward to having you in class,” she told me. “We could use your help in building up the membership.”
“But I can’t get around well enough to visit,” I said.
“You could send out cards,” she said, “and make phone calls. You know God will use us wherever He places us, if we’ll let Him.”
My thoughts skipped to the class I’d taught for so long. “They’re not your children,” I could almost hear God whisper. “They’re mine.”
The children were doing quite well without me. And directly in front of me was another opportunity to serve. “You’re right,” I told her, suddenly excited about the prospect.
Why is it that sometimes we insist on hanging onto something long after God would have us move on?
Linda Tomblin is the mother of four and grandmother of 12. She has been writing for 30 years and has articles in numerous publications.
This article originally appeared in the January 2012 issue of Mature Living. Subscribe