Chapters: 1 | 2 |
Chapter 2: First Sunday Behind the Curtain
The morning began in stillness. Nadia pulled into the church parking lot while the sky still blushed with the first light of dawn. She parked close to the building, partly for convenience and partly because the empty lot, framed by tall oaks, felt both serene and eerie. Nadia was surprised to notice she had arrived first, even before her pastor. She stepped out of her car, holding the jangling keys the pastor had handed her earlier that week. They felt heavy—not just in weight, but in the trust they symbolized. She was now the gatekeeper of a space she’d grown to love as a member, but this was different. She unlocked the door, feeling a rush of cool air hit her face. Spring might have arrived, but the church building had yet to catch up.
Inside, the church was dark and cold, but it wasn’t lifeless. Nadia moved through the hallways with purpose, flipping on lights and setting rooms to rights. Chairs were shuffled back into place, stray papers tucked into recycling bins. Evidence of shared use was everywhere. Nadia chuckled as she retrieved a stray dodgeball from under a table, a remnant of the youth group’s Thursday night escapades. Sharing space and supplies was part of the small church experience, and while she didn’t mind, it occasionally tested her organizational skills. Her “secret stashes” of crayons, glue sticks, and snacks had already become legendary among the children’s ministry volunteers preventing them from not having what they needed on Sunday morning.
As she tidied, she was startled by the sound of footsteps echoing down the hall. Mrs. Jenson had arrived, dutifully heading to the kitchen to brew the coffee that everyone would later sip without a second thought. Nadia greeted her warmly, grateful for this early companionship. The worship team volunteers trickled in next, and the disjointed sounds of tuning guitars and warming-up vocals soon spilled from the auditorium. It wasn’t the harmonious music that would later usher in worship, but the messy prelude made her smile. Chaos was sometimes the precursor to beauty.
Before long, the stillness gave way to energy. Volunteers began arriving, and the building warmed—not just in temperature but in spirit. Nadia couldn’t tell if it was the heating system kicking in or the collective warmth of fellowship, but either way, the chill vanished. Soon, the joyful chaos of children running down hallways filled the air, their laughter echoing as they darted to classrooms. “Slow down!” called well-meaning adults, but their scolding was half-hearted. Nadia suspected they secretly enjoyed the unbridled enthusiasm.
Despite the joyful start, Nadia couldn’t ignore one pressing concern: the lack of a secure check-in system. In their small church, many thought it unnecessary, but Nadia knew better. She made a mental note to address it soon. Safety was paramount, even if it meant ruffling a few feathers. It would slow down parents, but at least it would slow down running kids. The thought made her chuckle to herself.
As the morning unfolded, she made her rounds, greeting volunteers and parents. Some stopped her to express gratitude for stepping into the role, while others handed her mental lists of what they thought needed fixing. Remembering her pastor’s advice, Nadia smiled and graciously handed them her business card, saying, “Let’s connect this week. Today, let’s focus on worship.” The strategy worked; most were appeased by her warm demeanor and the sense that their concerns would be heard.
The first service went smoother than she’d expected. When a volunteer didn’t show up for the second service, she seamlessly stepped into the classroom. It wasn’t ideal—but she believed strongly in the “never alone” policy—she knew this season would require flexibility. As she joined the kids in a craft activity, she found herself mentally drafting policies she’d need to implement. For now, though, her role was simple: to smile, encourage, and convey hope. The best was yet to come.
The day ended much as it began—in quiet, but this time with her family by her side. Alex, her husband, and their two kids arrived after services to help with cleanup. Together, they vacuumed classrooms, emptied trash cans, and returned the building to its original state. Nadia marveled at her kids’ helpfulness and Alex’s patient coaching to keep them on task. They truly were a team.
Over lunch, Alex suggested hosting a meeting with key leaders and parents to gather feedback and discuss the ministry’s future. They both agreed that the relational trust Nadia already had with the church community was a significant advantage. Alex suggested sending a mass email, but Nadia decided to personally call each invitee, ensuring they felt valued and included. They determined the meeting would take place in their home, fostering a warm, intimate atmosphere for open conversation.
As they made a list of attendees to invite, Nadia’s heart swelled with hope. She didn’t feel ready. She didn’t feel equipped. But she did feel Called. She had heard a pastor once say, “God doesn’t call the equipped, He equips the Called.” And that was her prayer, that as she faithfully followed His lead, He would equip her along the way. As they left the restaurant, she whispered a prayer of thanks and anticipation.
God’s blueprint for His ministry was beginning to take shape.
To Be Continued…
