If I understood the job description, I would have turned it down instantly.  It was 8:00 pm and our meeting was running late.  I loathe meetings, so when the club director asked if I would be one of the facilities supervisors for the upcoming speech and debate tournament, I said “yes!” because I wanted people to stop taking and let me go home.  Fortunately, she recruited my friend Ann as well.  I assumed if the job was unpleasant, Ann would warn me.  She offered no warnings, merely smiled and gave me the thumbs up sign across the table.  

The tournament was 4 days long and involved approximately 160 competitors and their families.  If you are foolish enough to accept a position on the facilities team, you become responsible for maintaining the facilities and the 26 rooms used for competition.  It is a monumental task. Garbage, bathrooms, chairs, tables, and classrooms; facilities is responsible for the set up and maintenance of all of it.  There is however one small perk.  You get to wear a walkie-talkie. 

In my entire adult life, no one has ever entrusted me with a walkie-talkie. Simply put, no one was ever stupid enough.  But things move quickly in the world of speech and debate and communication between volunteers is key. As a result, certain people are given walkie-talkies in the hope they will respond rapidly to emergencies.  Ann and I were key people in the rapid problem solving fantasy.  I was given my walkie-talkie and shown how to use it.  It was as cool as my 7 year old self had imagined.  When Ann arrived I handed her one.  We were wired for sound, all we needed now was a problem to solve.  

We didn’t have to wait long, inspection of the room set up revealed an issue and suddenly I was responsible for rearranging furniture in six rooms before the tournament was to start in 40 mins.  I flung tables and chairs about like Thor in detention before I was called away to another task involving a lost senior citizen and decaffeinated coffee.  The tournament had begun.

I should explain that Ann and I have a similar sense of humour.  We favour dry, irreverent remarks and possess a love of the English language.  We are generally able to keep things sensible in person but something about our walkie-talkies brought out the very devil; everything was funny.  All she needed to say was “roger that,” and I would giggle myself silly.   I assumed we were doing a good job of using the radios for emergencies only until day two of the tournament, when the logistics director kicked us off the main channel.  Ann and I were sent to timeout on channel 2, where we could be as chatty as our hearts desired.  People knew how to find us if they needed us. Sadly, I couldn’t quite get the hang of switching between the two channels and the logistics director had to exercise extreme patience as I continually chatted with Ann on her channel.  “Karen, you’re on channel one.  Facilities has two.”  I figured it was cosmic justice, poor woman, that’s what she gets for kicking us in the first place.  

As the week progressed, I realized I was enrolled in a crash course on problem solving.  My entire role centered on fixing people’s problems.  I experienced a steep learning curve.  Often, I was surprised by the attitude of those I was helping: it was simply impossible to make everyone happy.  

A large part of tournament life centers around food.  Students need to be fed and so do their families.  Many buy meals though some bring crock pots to cut costs. In addition, tournaments feed those who generously volunteer to judge competitors.  Consequently, the kitchen team sets up a make shift restaurant in the venue where they feed people all day long.  It is amazing. 

The menu on day three was broccoli soup.  Downstairs, crock pots full of hearty green goodness simmered and sent their aroma through the building.  Upstairs, families plugged in their own stews and casseroles to be devoured that night.  I didn’t really think much about it until I met a robust little man in the hallway as I was running to meet Ann.                                                                          “It smells like a latrine in here,” he greeted me.                                    “Really? It does? Does it?”  I felt confused.  This wasn’t a regular greeting.  “Yep.  It does,” he replied and looked at me expectantly.  I was at a loss, “Okay, well I’ll check that out and see what I can do.  Can I help you with anything else?”                                                                                               “Nope.  Just thought you should know,” he offered and marched off down the hall.                                                                                                    “Thank you,” I called intentionally walking in the opposite direction.  

It was 20 minutes before I thought about the broccoli again.  I had run outside to grab something from my car when I reentered the building.  I pulled open the double doors and was hit by a sulfurous wave that just about knocked me off my feet. “Not good,” I muttered to myself.  Running to the janitor’s closet, I grabbed a can of air freshener.  For the next ten minutes, I walked around the wing of the building, opening windows and spraying bursts of air freshener in an attempt to loosen the cruciferous cabbages’ clutches.  Mission completed I returned to my post.   

An hour later I was approached by a very cross human being.  “Whatever you are spraying in the building is making someone have an asthma attack!”           “Really?” I said uselessly.  “That’s horrible.  Do they need medical help?  Where are they?”  I was ready to run again, I just needed to be pointed in the correct direction.  
“She’s fine. But you need to stop spraying.” She frowned.  
“Well, we stopped an hour ago.  Are you certain she doesn’t need help?  I’ll go open more windows!” I was reassured the student was fine but I ran to prop open a door and more windows.  Between the sulfur and the dichlorobenzene I wasn’t feeling like air was on my side.  

I had just trekked around the wing for the second time when I was approached by another parent.  “Karen, I’m working down the hall and there is quite a draft.  Would you mind if I shut those windows?”  She pointed to the last set I had opened.  
“OF COURSE!  What a good idea!”  I all but shouted at the surprised parent. “You do what you need. I don’t mind at all.”  I smiled reassuringly and nodded my head too enthusiastically.  “Excuse me, I’m being summoned.”  I pointed to my walkie-talkie “Karen…..”  Ann was in my ear.  “The janitor said he didn’t want the door propped open, he’s afraid of rats getting in the building.”            
 “RATS ARE NOCTURNAL!!” I screamed forgetting to press the talk button.  I bit my lip and made a strange noise.  The parent looked at me puzzled.  “Science lesson,” I smiled dismissing myself and walking quickly away.

By this point in my tournament life I was feeling a bit frayed.  I wish I could tell you that this was a rare example but honestly, the entire four days was filled with situations like this one.  As soon as I had figured out how to solve a problem, someone else got cross.  It was genuinely amazing.  At the end of the day, I felt so misunderstood and frustrated I was happy to take off my walkie-talkie.  The joy had been sucked right out of it.  

Which got me to thinking dear friend, about those of you who are working in your anointing for those who are ungrateful.  You started out with an intention to glorify God and serve and now you are wondering why you even bothered. Every day feels like a kick in the teeth and you’re pretty sure a couple are going to fall out any minute now. 

Can I encourage you my friend to hold on?
Hebrews 6:10 states,

For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do.

Our God makes note of your hard work.  We serve a God who sees.  Our God is a God of recompense.  Nothing you do out of faith is wasted.  I pray that you will have the strength to put your head down and persevere.  Steel yourself, sing a song, and keep standing.

I’m praying for you this week.


xoxKaren
Photo: http://www.pdpics.com/photo/1810-broccoli-cabbage/