The importance of pulling a wagon

A few Saturdays ago, we held a Flash Mob Block Party in one part of the Red Light District in Mexico City. I have an aversion to "Outreach Events", for several reasons, the most prominent being the memory of the Reverse Trick-or-Treating event in youth group, circa 1998. Here's how it went down: Instead of participating in the act of wearing a costume and receiving candy from kind neighbors, we were going to flip it and reverse it! So out we went, maybe 10 of us, with a wagon of our own candy and some christian pamphlets. We knocked on the door, and just as the person tried to give us some candy, we declined it, and instead gave them our candy and a little pamphlet about Christianity. I remember staying back, feeling super weird about the whole thing, so I made it my job to pull the wagon because I knew I could at least do that well. But at the end of the night, I didn't feel like I had done anything because the only thing that was praised was the people who went to the doors. No one thanked me for doing a thankless job, which based on the term makes perfect sense. The whole thing was awkward. My chest is getting tight just thinking about it.

So as we were driving to the Block Party, my friend looked over to me and must have gathered that I was feeling nervous based on the rodent-like way I was biting my fingernails, and asked "Hey, how are you feeling?" I was honest and said I was nervous and that these things aren't really my thing. He didn't answer and I didn't say anything else, but I did continue to bite my nails. There were about 75 of us that showed up to be a part of the Block Party [of Love] and I was going to be overseeing and coordinating the manicures. I had a whole system I created of hand-washing, hand-exfoliating, hand-massaging, and nail-painting. Secretly, I was a little nervous to be in charge of this because I am really bad at painting nails. Thankfully there were plenty of people that were capable of both painting nails well and loving people. Whew. Crisis averted. No one was going to walk away looking like a blind-folded 3-year-old painted their nails.

Since I was coordinating the manicures, my experience was just a snippet of what went on that night. Some people invited the prostitutes; some served the food; some ate with them; some heard their stories; some prayed for them; some talked with pimps; some took pictures; some hugged each other; and some cried together. At the end of the night, my one friend, who was one of the people just talking and listening to stories, said "That was SO much fun! I could do this every night!" And I knew she wasn't lying because I saw her at different points throughout the night and I could tell she was loving this, like it was something she was made to do. I also got to watch as my friends gave manicures to many many women. I watched them care for them through washing their hands; I watched them accept them, just as they were; I watched them listening to their stories; I heard them showering them with words of love. It was beautiful.

As I started processing the event I had this small twinge of guilt; this feeling of being not enough. "All I did was coordinate--I didn't do anything important" was the monologue in my head. I thought back to  youth group and realized I had felt the same thing then. I don't like this feeling of not enough--I know it's not true and it's definitely not from God. So as I worked through why I was feeling this way, I realized that I was believing the lie that only big things matter. And I was also believing the lie that I needed to be someone that I am not.


I am really good at coordinating events and I actually really enjoy doing it. I am not really great at speaking spanish or painting nails, so why do I feel guilty about doing something I love doing? If I am only willing to do the things that receive recognition or that seem like a big deal in that moment, am I really being authentic? Is it really out of a heart of service, sacrifice, and love or is out of guilt, pride, and vanity?

And so these are my thoughts, as I am learning to daily shift my inner-monologue from guilt to freedom and my actions go from pride to love: The world needs me to be me; when I live as I actually am rather than what I think I am supposed to be, I, along with others, will experience freedom and joy; it isn't about doing big things for God but doing small things for a really big God; we all possess unique talents and abilities and every single one has value, even pulling a wagon.