When you learn to read, you start with letters, then you progress to small words, and then to small books. These books are called primers. When you paint, if you want to do it right, you put on a coat of primer before you put on the paint.
I've always been the type to jump to the end. I didn't want "See Spot Run." I wanted C. S. Lewis. I certainly never wanted to read directions. And God knows me. He knows this about me. I often joke that God's most common words to me are "Slow down!"
Recently, He taught me that again. I work sometimes at my church's adopted campus with the youth group. We decided to update the youth room. It hadn't been remodeled in more than ten years, and it was bad. We had to unscrew metal roofing panels from the walls, which had been screwed in at six inch intervals all the way around the room. We comically referred to the texture beneath the red paint as "outside of Taco Bell." It was a half-inch thick in some places. We had to sand it down completely. Beneath the paneling, we discovered a different texture altogether, and the walls were not red, but bright blue. We had to use primer.
So it began: we painted. And painted. And painted. And we seemed to get nowhere at all, because the primer was white, like the majority of the walls at this point (they had already been re-textured). Finally, we decided to be done. When we painted the color, however, it made a difference. It made a huge difference, in fact. With help, we were able to finish painting and setting up in a very short amount of time. Then came the true test: Wednesday night.
It was beautiful. It was as if the change of scenery changed the whole attitude of the youth group. Students who had stuck to themselves for as long as I had been there started to interact with everybody else. Girls opened up to me. They felt relaxed. Worship was an entirely different experience. It was brand new. This weekend, we held a girls' retreat in the newly-painted youth room. More girls showed up for the retreat than total students come on a typical week. It was a wonderful experience. The girls opened up, and grew together. They thought deeply about the things we talked about and shared experiences with each other, encouraged each other, challenged each other.
I kept thinking about the primer. Priming was hard work. It seemed to go nowhere. It seemed completely unrelated to any spiritual value. In short, it felt like worthless, wasted energy. But it wasn't. Without the primer, we would have no new paint. Without the new paint, we would have no new environment. Without the new environment, we would have missed opportunities to reach those students with Christ.
Right now, I am teaching in Amarillo. At first, it seemed like I was going nowhere. It seemed completely unrelated to any spiritual value. It felt like worthless, wasted energy. But it isn't. I have had the opportunity to share Christ with a youth group that runs about 12-14 students on a weekly basis. I organized a girls' retreat. I get to use my teaching skills to run a homework help session once a week for the students who are struggling with their grades so that they can continue to come to church on Wednesdays. Although I am not in China, I spoke about God in Chinese in a place where it is illegal to do so. I counseled a girl who was struggling with suicidal thoughts, and I got to tell her that God had created her with a purpose. There are children who come into our classrooms every day dealing with divorce, abuse, bullying, hunger, and a million other stressors. And every day, I get to be a light in their lives. I get to say, "you're safe here." I get to say, "you are deeply loved." I get to say, "you are unique, you have a purpose, and you are going to do great things."
And those words, in a language I understand, are far more valuable than "I'm hitting you with a banana," which happens to be the only phrase I know in Swahili. If I had gone by my plan, I would be preparing to go to Mozambique right now. I would be headed to Africa, where I have never been before, to start a literacy program, when I have never even taught a class of my own, in a language that I do not speak.
God said, "Diane, you need to put on the primer." He knew if He told me the end-game, I would jump right to it. I would skip the primer, the planning, the preparation, the practice. And I would miss all the wonderful blessings He had in store for me during that time.
Don't be afraid of hard work. Don't be afraid of the primer. There are a million blessings in priming.
Love, as always,
Diane
