I've decided there are two types of people in the world. Those who always make sure they have gas in their car's tank, and those of us who live on the edge. My wife is one of the first kind. When her gas gauge indicates she has about a quarter of a tank left, she immediately starts thinking and looking for a gas station to fill up.
For whatever reason, I'm the opposite. I'm the guy who thinks he can still go a long way after the gas light comes on. In fact, I get a rush out of seeing just how far I can go sometimes.
I'm like Kramer in that infamous Seinfeld episode where he takes the car salesman on a quest to see how far they can go without running out of gas.
Of course this means I have periodically run out of gas. Actually several times. Ironically most of the time it was in my own driveway as the car simply wouldn't start the next morning.
Do you ever have mornings like that yourself? Mornings where you get out of bed thinking, "my tank's empty, I just don't have anything left today."
Your own internal tank is empty and needs immediate filling.
I was like that this past weekend. We have been running a real hard pace at RAM getting ready for a spring full of activities. And on top of that our son is going through one of his sleepless seasons.
Saturday night we had one of our special needs worship services here in Cookeville. I sat in the back watching and waiting to deliver the message, praying for God to infuse me with energy.
All of a sudden God opened my eyes to what was going on around me. I witnessed a young man with cerebral palsy struggle to his feet and stand up when the song lyrics "I will rise" were being sung. I watched two boys with profound special needs sitting side-by-side with RAM t-shirts that said on the back, "I am wonderfully made and created for a plan and a purpose."
Behind me a mentally challenged young adult belted out worship songs at the top of his lungs singing about being free.
And when it came time for the children to gather around and sing a couple of children's worship songs, I watched the miraculous.
A 14 year old autistic boy led the children's worship. Not just a 14 year old boy.
An autistic boy who was practically non-verbal just 3 years ago. A boy who spoke his first complete sentence when he came to our special needs VBS and by the end of the week was singing "Jesus Loves Me."
Now here he was leading his friends and other children in praising God just three yeas later!
I couldn't understand a lot of his words or what he was singing. But he wasn't singing to me or for me. His audience was the Director of Music himself, Christ Jesus. He had an audience of One. And I guarantee He understood it all, received it all, and was glorified by it all.
A new mom to our group, who drove an hour to attend our gathering, smiled broadly as her own autistic son danced and twirled to the music.
I needed a reminder of why we do what we do that night. I needed to have my tank filled. And I needed to be reminded of how big God really is.
I left with my soul singing, my tank overflowing, and my spirits renewed.
I used to think God called me to be a missionary to the special needs community. Now I think maybe sometimes he has called them to be a missionary to me.