We lived in an old mobile home for nine years.
I was anything but proud – in fact, I spent many cranky hours reminding God just how much I hated our situation. We had both left our full-time jobs to pursue new avenues that we knew we were called to travel. The trailer that was supposed to be our “stepping stone” had become my prison and my bane. Nine hundred and eighty square feet of misery.
I knew better than to complain – after all, “God is good, all the time!” I should be grateful for a roof over my head and clean water in the pipes! Sure. But the pipes were tubes, and they split and flooded the place three times. One dark New Year’s Eve saw me outside in a towel, frantically tearing off the skirting to find the shut-off valve. The kitchen had flooded while I was getting ready to go to a party. And the roof was far too low – at 5’6” I could palm the ceiling easily. It called to mind daily the scene in A New Hope where Luke, Han and Leia are stuck in the garbage masher, and the walls are closing in on them. I hated it.
I did all I knew how to do – I watched YouTube videos and did small DIY projects while my husband slaved away at building a business empire. I painted the dark, 1980s paneling a calming off-white. I found a compact dishwasher for an unbelievable price. I tiled the backsplash and saved up for a new counter-top. To replace the rotting porch, I gathered a small army of volunteers and fed them. We did the best we could.
Some days, I would get down, and feel entitled to better. “But, Lord, I have a college degree! I deserve something more!” Sometimes I would compare. “But <insert name> doesn’t work as hard as we do, and they just broke ground for a pool!” Often, I would pout. “You promised good to those who love You, so why are we still stuck HERE?” That’s definitely what I was: stuck.
My heart and mind were stuck. I was unable to see beyond those narrow walls. I was helpless to break out of that awful mindset. All I could do was pray and wait, and try to be grateful.
Gradually, God began to show me why we were there – and my attitude improved. But, on days when I felt like a relapse was imminent, I would go to my new secret weapon: I would pretend to sell the house!
House Showing Today
Yes, it’s as nuts as it sounds. I would dress up and pretend to meet someone at the door, then I would spend half an hour “showing” this imaginary person around our home. I would gesture and give the grand tour, excitedly going on and on to nobody about what a nice, comfortable corner we had built for ourselves. I showed off the new improvements, and talked about what had been there before. (I know our chinchilla thought I had really lost it.)
Sometimes you have to do something kind of crazy in order to snap yourself out of a funk. Showing the house to imaginary people worked for me, because any time you try to sell something, you focus on the benefits. You highlight the good. You concentrate on all that makes what you’re selling desirable.
Making this a regular practice genuinely lifted me out of my complaining spirit – it showed me how blessed I really was, and it inspired me to truly give thanks for all I had. And – bonus – when we were finally able to put an offer in for a bigger house in town, it only took me a few minutes to type up a glowing description of our trailer for the website. We soon found a grateful buyer – a young, single man from the church down the road – and it all worked out well.
Church Showing Today
So – why on earth am I telling you this? Well, because I think this oddball practice could translate to a small-town pastorate.
It’s very easy for those of us who serve in rural congregations to get down on our churches and our ministries. It’s easy for us to feel like we don’t have it as good as those big-church pastors.
“Oh, your new youth wing has a Starbucks and a climbing wall? Hey, good for you! Our three teenagers meet in a basement classroom and the ceiling caved in last week.”
“Your choir’s motorcoach has heated leather seats? How nice!
We had five people show up at rehearsal last week and the CD player wouldn’t work.”
“Your family outreach event fed 3,000 people and gave away 700 iPads and a minivan? Wonderful! We had 18 kids meander over for our Trunk-or-Retreat!”
I get it. I do.
If this is your struggle, then go ahead and try my hare-brained idea. Go out to your church building on a day when nobody else will be there. Pray and ask God to open your heart and mind to His possibilities. Confess your envy, and whatever other junk you’ve got growing in there. Ask Him to speak to you, ask for His Truth to refresh you. Then, walk around the building and grounds, and sell the church.
Pretend you’re leaving, and you’ve been tasked with convincing a new pastor to accept the post. Walk this imaginary person around and give the grand tour. You may be surprised by what you find.
“This room here is where some of our ladies meet to sew cloth school bags to send in our shoebox Christmas gifts every year. People donate fabric and they put it to good use.”
“This is the spot where Krista carried in a bucket of manure for the children’s story. She taught them about how much sin stinks. She had no idea there was a hole in the bottom!”
“Oh, and over here is where Benny the drunk fell on his knees after a funeral I preached, and received the Lord Jesus. I got to pray with him, help him get sober, and then disciple him.”
Are you feeling stuck in your little church? Like the walls are closing in and you have no idea how to be grateful? Go ahead: “sell” your church – and allow yourself to see all the good that God is doing there.
Friends, let’s not get weary of doing good. In time, there will be a harvest to gather if we do not give up! In all the work you do, put your whole heart into it – as if working for God alone and not man – and you will find great joy in your reward.
Amen, let it be.
Abby Shaffer is a 2005 graduate of Grove City College and was licensed into set-apart ministry in 2006. She received her ordination in 2017. After serving in district ministry for ten years, God called her to serve her home congregation as a pastor, in 2019. She lives in Western PA with her husband, Dan, and their rabbit, Gary. She marvels daily at God's grace!
