The lamp of the Lord searches the spirit of a man, it searches out his innermost being — Solomon (Proverbs 20:27)
The thing about tool rooms is they are like a treasure trove of amazing stuff that you collect because you might need at some point (and often do). We have such a tool room at the Camp. On Monday, I was cleaning it out — it’s a little 5’x6’ room with a fake stone floor that has held all the various power and hand tools, nuts, bolts, screws, cans of paint, electrical and plumbing supplies, hornet spray, ant traps, and all sorts of other fascinating tidbits from the hardware store. We are renovating this area of the building and it will result in a slightly longer room, which also gives me the opportunity to properly organize it again.
But let’s rewind way back to 2002 when we first bought The Camp and were going through it and painting it room-by-room. I was still working at Grace and would drive up to help out wherever I could. Now there is one thing that I was good at in those years, and it was painting. I had quite a bit of experience painting interiors and so I thought, “Well, this is a great fit.” I got there and there were several folks working in some of the larger public rooms who didn’t have much (or any) experience at painting. Clearly. So I was all excited to get in there and really help out. Dave Carey was there (a very experienced painter) and so I went to Corey Stark and said I was here to help paint. He said, “Ok great. Let me show you where I want you to start.” He then led me down this hallway to this tiny little room with a single lightbulb, away from all the activity and fun, and said, “If you can just start painting this closet, that would be great.”
Of course, outwardly I smiled and got started, but inwardly I was like, “Are you serious? I have to paint this? Surely, this guy has no idea what I can do. I am definitely capable and certainly worthy of doing something bigger than this stupid closet. I have painted whole houses before!” Plus it had all these shelves in it, so it was a pain to get in there and do it neatly. You know, finishing the big room would be more dramatic and visible. Someone would come in and say, “Wow, this place looks great! Who painted it for you?” And then I could say proudly, “Well, I did.” After all, who’s going to walk into a storage closet and say something like that?
I fumed about it for a little bit, but it wasn’t too long before the Lord started working on me. “So what are you doing this for Joshua? Glory? Affirmation? Didn’t I tell you that if you can deal with small stuff with grace and humility, I will let you handle the big stuff? Are you willing to serve even if no one notices or says thank you? Are you willing to find joy in doing something mundane or banal? Will you change your perspective and understand that you are pleasing me by your act of service when you do it with a thankful and cheerful heart?”
My attitude shifted that afternoon. Pride was exchanged for humility and a grateful spirit to be a part of a team of folks who were learning to serve together and be in community. God has continually shown me over the years that working behind the scenes, long hours into the night — when no one is around to see you or pat you on the back — is all a part of worship. Your work becomes an act of service that is between you and Him. And what a privilege it is to be able to create spaces for people to worship, pray, study, get counsel, and commune with God. Whether it is building trails or cleaning a bathroom, these moments of ministry are what causes me to stay humble before the Lord, knowing that these small tasks are a part of a much greater work.
The Lord will push, prod, and poke you to stir up stuff inside you to reveal the innermost thoughts and intents of the heart. For when our hearts are stirred, we can find truth and freedom in areas that have been stagnant or closed off. I pray that I will continue to find joy in the work of the ministry and that I would always seek humility and meekness in my service. Painting that closet 16 years ago was a good teachable lesson and one of those pride-breaking moments that I won’t forget.
By the way, that little closet went on to become our first food pantry that later expanded to the garage and then to the Horizon Center where, by the grace and provision from God, hundreds were fed each week and millions of pounds of food were distributed.