“When Obedience Feels Heavy”

 

Volunteering is no easy call,
It asks for your strength; it asks for all of you.
Not for the weak, nor faint of heart,
It's grace and grit—a sacred art.

You meet the kind, the warm, the true,
But also those who wound and bruise.
Not all are gracious, not all will smile,
Some test your patience all the while.

It drains your mind, it bends your soul,
You wonder if you've lost control.
Is this for God—or just for me?
A checklist done, or loyalty?

The faces blur, the voices clash,
The plans unravel in a flash.
You breathe in deep, you count to ten,
And pray for strength to start again.

For some are broken, some are proud,
Some speak harshly, some shout too loudly.
You hold your tongue, you guard your tone,
And whisper, "Lord, I'm not alone."

Because this work is more than tasks,
It's wearing grace like fragile masks.
It's choosing love when anger burns,
It's giving hope when no one learns.

You wonder if you're doing right,
When joy feels distant, out of sight.
But then His whisper calms your fear:
"I placed you here to love, not cheer.
Extend compassion, forgive the wrong,
For in your weakness, I make you strong."

So you press on through weary days,
Through chaos, noise, and tangled ways.
Not for applause, not for the show,
But because His heart said, "Go."

And when you doubt, when strength feels thin,
Remember, grace will pull you in.
For love is more than tasks complete—
It's serving Him at others' feet.

So if you're tired, if hope feels weak,
Remember this: it's not for the meek.
It's hard, it's holy, it's raw, it's real—
A calling deeper than what we feel.