Pick Up the Crayon

 

"If you are faithful in little things, you will be faithful in large ones." — Luke 16:10

I’d taken my Mum out for breakfast for her birthday. Time spent talking with her is always my absolute favourite thing in the world. Processing life and faith and lessons learned together with her is one of the greatest joys and encouragements that exist in my life. 

This particular day, we were discussing Christian growth, and how God uses His Word and opportunities to grow people into leaders. I related to her the story of a man I admired for his many faithful years of ministry work, how at one point in his life, he sat in a corporate office and was asked by a very successful man how he became such a good leader. Surrounding him on the walls of the office were certificates of leadership studies and achievements, and the man was floored that someone in such a position would ask him the question. He put it down to leading on beach missions for many years. I could see how all those years of saying yes to God helped mold and shape him into the leader he is now, and I marvelled that there are yet Christians who do not seem to grow in the same way. 

“It’s like, God starts by offering you a crayon,” Mum said. “When you pick up and draw with the crayon for a while, God then offers you a water-based marker, and then a paintbrush. Then he gives you a pencil, and from there as you get better with it, a pen. After this, you’re offered a permanent marker, and then a wide paintbrush, and before long, you’re painting the side of a building. But it had to start with you saying ‘yes’ to the crayon. If you never pick up the crayon, you’ll never paint the side of a building. You won’t grow. By the time your friend found himself in that office, he’d already painted so many buildings, but he had to start with the crayon.”

I was really struck by this metaphor. Coming home, I was still turning it over in my mind as I stood in the sun, hanging washing on the line. I was thinking of someone I know, who, though a Christian, seemed to have no interest or desire to be a part of any kind of ministry or mission, even though people very close to them were passionate about it. For a long time I have wondered why this was so. The memory of Mum’s analogy and the answer suddenly hit me like a meteorite. I said out loud to myself, right there at the clothesline, pegs in hand:

“It’s because they never picked up the crayon.”

If it’s not a new one, a crayon can be an ugly little thing. It rubs off on your fingers if it doesn’t have a casing, it doesn’t draw smoothly, and leaves chunks of itself on the page. It’s messy, and seemingly ineffective most of the time. Yet they are good for children to learn with, harmless should they chew on them, and relatively easy to clean up after. Crayons are not glamorous, but they can be the beginning of something amazing for a future artist.
 
I spent much of my teens and into my twenties sitting on my bed for a couple of hours a day reading my Bible. It seemed like the best use of my time back then, considering I had a lot of it that was otherwise unoccupied. I chafed under the sameness of my life during that season. I wrestled with whether I should get work somewhere, but nothing I went after seemed right or succeeded. I prayed harder than I ever had before for a change. Long nights I spent walking around outside in the dark under the stars, pouring my heart out to God, all my hopes and dreams, but ultimately I came to rest my trust in His plans. While I did honestly believe all the time I spent in the Bible and prayer was important, I had no idea how much this humble crayon was preparing me for my first real opportunity. 

My big crayon moment was when the friend of some friends asked if I’d be willing to help my friends cook for a kids camp an hour from where I lived. I hated camps, believed kids hated me, and wasn’t convinced I didn’t feel the same way about them. I loved home, didn’t like cooking, but I knew I had the skills, and apparently they were desperate. I knew I could help, and I felt guilty, so I said yes. My ugly little first crayon opportunity. 

Turns out I had a ball cooking with my good friends in a run down school house in the middle of nowhere on a farm with a bunch of kids surrounded by lovely people. I loved seeing kids experience what was basically my childhood; wearing gumboots, milking cows by hand, lighting fires, burning tussocks, crossing creeks and climbing hills. I also loved Jesus, and the way His Word was preached in this setting; thoughtfully connected to real life through the integrity of the leaders and the beauty of our surroundings. It moved me. I was impressed. I wanted more. So God handed me a marker. 

Cooking for a camp full of boys was one thing. Leading girls was another. Girls were weird. Girls wouldn’t like me. But the need for girl leaders outweighed the need for cooks, and so I reluctantly raised my hand. Turns out the girls adored me. I sat and wrote calligraphy in all their notebooks, let them braid my hair, and read stories to them around the fire. I fell in love with these girls that were my sole responsibility for a week, and I looked forward to the next year I could be with them again, praying with them, and sharing with them God’s Word. 

The paintbrush God handed me was transitioning into leading at the youth group of my church. Every fortnight, and more often if I could, I would show up to lead 30-40 kids with a great team at my church, because I now knew that I didn’t hate kids, and they didn’t hate me either. I helped lead worship, and–thanks to the experience of sharing my testimonies at ag camps–I wound up preaching at youth a couple of times a term. 

My permanent marker moment was directing ag camp. I had a small team, little knowledge of who they were, and barely a meeting to pull us together, but I showed up with a whole lot of trust in God and a whole lot of scared stiff to boot. God pulled us together as an incredible team, and the camp was a success. I thought I’d never do anything so terrifyingly stressful and fantastically good again. 

After chasing these various ministries around as a volunteer, a couple of years later, God offered me the thick, wide paintbrush. I was offered a position on staff with Scripture Union. I remember exactly where I was: on a mission at Tamworth Country Music Festival, sitting under a tree in the shade of a 40 degree day, on the phone when the words came through. 

“Are you interested in a job with SU?” 

Time seemed to stop for a moment. I could feel my fears rising to the top, anxiety flooding my brain with every reason why I should say no. “It’ll be scary, you’ll have to talk to so many people you don’t know, you have no idea what you’re doing, you don’t even know if you can do this, you’re out of your depth, you’ll fail, you’ll disappoint, you can’t–” It would have gone on forever except I heard a sound come out of my own mouth unbidden. 

“Yes.”

 It’s been wild, and it’s been the scariest, biggest, most stressful and amazing two years of my life. I’m still being handed crayons in various ways and sizes, but I’m also being given the opportunity to handle some pretty decent markers, and maybe a can of spraypaint here and there. I still have such a long way to go, but I am so far from where I was when I picked up my first crayon. 

I can’t help but have the greatest compassion for the Christians I see who never seem to have the courage to pick up an ugly crayon and give it a go. I can see the way it brings a hardness to their hearts; keeping them from being sensitive to opportunities from God, and causing them to overcommit to what they claim to despise. I don’t think I ever really hated kids. I was just afraid of what it would cost me to love them. I was afraid of the effort it would take, and how it would hurt to fail, and maybe I was afraid that I would actually like it more than I expected in the end.

On camp over the past weekend, I was reflecting with a couple of young ones on Jesus' words in Mark, "Repent, and believe the Good News". Repent, simply meaning changing one's mind, and believe the Gospel, the Good News. It's not often we have to tell someone to believe good news when they hear it. People can accept a truth gladly, but it may not always impact their lives. To believe something is to live in such a way that testifies it is true to you. Yet the pharisees and scribes were so dedicated to their way of thinking, they were unwilling to change their minds. The message, essentially, could be rephrased as: Change your mind, and live like Jesus died for you. God gave me the opportunity to change my mind. Instead of avoiding all opportunities to work with kids who I assumed hated me, I repented. There is now no greater joy in my life than that of sharing the Gospel with young people.

Mark 9:41 reads that “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink in Christ’s Name, because you belong to Christ, assuredly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward”. Giving someone a cup of water is the absolute ground level easiest thing to do in the Name of Jesus and for His Kingdom. There is no lower crayon entry point than this, and everyone will be handed it in life. Some many times over. The question is, will you take it? Will you pick up the crayon?

One of the more inspiring quotes I’ve ever heard I heard from a 31 year old woman who died of cancer this year. She was only a year older than me. She said, “Don’t you want to see what happens if you don’t give up?” In that same vein, my challenge to you is, “Don’t you want to see what happens if you say ‘yes’?”

What’s your cup of water or crayon opportunity? It’s going to come. Maybe you’ll be asked to help cook for a camp, like me. Maybe you’ll be asked to lead at youth, or to be on a hospitality team at your church. Maybe you’ll be asked to drive a bus for a holiday Bible club, or give a testimony to a small group. Maybe there’ll be the opportunity to stand in the gap to play music, or work a coffee machine, or move chairs, or pray with someone. Maybe you’ll be asked to give a Bible reading, or start a lunchtime group, or teach SRE. Maybe you can fish, or play rugby, or hike, and you’ll be asked to contribute to one of those activities for the sake of the Gospel. Maybe you can hammer nails, use a drill, or change the oil in a car. Maybe you can sew, or make crafts. Maybe these things can be used to build God's Kingdom. Maybe someone thirsty will ask you for a drink of water. What will you say? Are you willing to change your mind?

Who knows what might happen if you say yes? 

Oh it can be difficult, but trust me–trust Jesus–it is worth it. 

So when you get your opportunity, please say yes. You need it. The world needs it. I pray that God softens your heart to hear His voice calling you. 

I pray you pick up the crayon.

And I pray you keep doing it, so that someday, someone will see the buildings you paint and want to pick up a crayon, too. 

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