He’s about nine or ten. A handsome boy with dark hair and soul eyes.
Each Sunday morning before the worship service begins, little Zeke (not his real name, but he’s a real boy) moves across each row of seats to greet and shake hands with people.
Not just a few of the worshipers, either. Zeke greets everyone. Then he goes up to the balcony and gets to everyone there, too. From his eagle’s eyrie, Zeke spies late-comers downstairs. He swoops down the stairs again to greet them, too.
When Zeke greets me, with his sincere gaze and tender palm, my mother’s heart makes me want to embrace him and give him a squeeze. But I don’t detain him because Zeke has a mission.
The adults have many cares and worries. Maybe they’re thinking about the next church business meeting, or their big to-do list, or a bill they have to pay this week.
But Zeke is in the moment, scanning the sanctuary for anyone he might have missed.
His little-boy attention feels like a tender reminder from the Holy Spirit: “I’m so glad you’re here. I love you. Now, go and do what Zeke is doing.”
Zeke is a minister of the Gospel.
He doesn’t need a pulpit or a lectern to preach.
He doesn’t need a white board and markers to teach.
Or a piano to help him sing.
Zeke communicates God’s love and encouragement each Sunday: “I notice you, you are significant, you are welcome.”
May I be like Zeke, with an eye out for others. Each day.
What a gift!
“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to us…if it is encouraging, let him encourage. (Romans 12:6,7 NIV Bible)