FEELINGS Part III

"I have found that most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
~ Abraham Lincoln

Over the years I’ve been involved in more ministries than I can count. To indulge those who ask me to share more about myself, here's a brief ministry resumé:

I’ve assisted teachers and I’ve taught Bible. Preached for ladies’ worship at the jail and led singing for worship all over. Done silly drama and sacred drama. I’ve spoken before groups large and small. Served as church leader and church go-fer. I’ve cooked and cleaned, served food to the homeless and Bill Gothard alike. I’ve done crisis counseling, and spent hours wherever people simply need a listening ear.

I’ve prayed alone through the night, led prayer before City Hall and a banquet hall, and prayed when heading up a prayer chain or one-on-one any place.

Lately, I do a whole lot of writing—here and around the blogsphere in chunks, on Facebook and Twitter in nibbles, in manuscripts with word counts to make publishing types cringe.

But in the last year, I’ve hit upon a ministry I take everywhere, all the time. I call it smile ministry.

If I can make eye contact with a person, they’ll receive a smile, and maybe a bright "Hi!" If I can hold eye contact for any length of time, I’ll do my best to elicit a return smile. No one is off limits. I smile at familiar people and strangers, small children, elderly people, harried people, unhurried people, hoodlum types, giggly teen girls, and even men who might return a leer (the rare one who does is quickly discouraged).

It’s amazing how many people don’t make eye contact. We walk through the world accustomed to taking little note of one another. Some people appear socially destitute enough for me to suspect that being overlooked is their norm. I persist with these souls, perhaps offering conversation, until I get them to really see me and understand that I see them. It may be the only validation from another human being they receive for who knows how long.

The smile is genuine—regardless of my mood—for the worth of each human being compels me to set aside any contrary feelings and offer Christ’s light.

"You are the light of the world... let your light shine before men,
that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."
Matthew 5:14-16 (NIV)

I admit to bad moods. I also have little tolerance for them, and grow weary of them quickly enough to shut them down when they sneak up on me.

Usually. But if I get downright depressed I withdraw, lest I inflict my misery on others.

Withdrawal wasn't an option when I abnormally found myself in that condition on a recent Sunday morning. My habit upon entering church is to locate and warmly hug as many people as care to be hugged, then go sing my heart out in praise. On that Sunday morning, I snuck into my pew, then consoled myself with the knowledge that God is still in heaven and worthy of my praise. No problem.

Until I faced a song that wasn’t about praise, but about me: "It is Well With My Soul."

I don't care to sing words I don’t feel. Keeping silent through the first verse convicted me deeply. What could EVER be so bad that it obscures God’s abundant blessings to the point one cannot say, "It is Well With My Soul"?

The only answer I could muster was to sing the chorus, from the heart:
It is well with my soul.
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And when I finished, the words matched my feelings.

Your questions and feedback are invited. Post to BuildingHisBody.com "Comments" or e-mail to BuildingHisBody@gmail.com. Copyright 2009, Anne Lang Bundy, all rights reserved.