Given my previous thoughts, I thought I would tell you about a few experiences of unity, of connectedness and love that, to me at least, are a genuine “high”.
One clear sunny Saturday on a Habitat for Humanity site a couple of years ago we had one of those days. We arrived and the frame work of the house was up and needed strapping, tied down and the roof trusses and frame work erected. We had a diverse group of men and women and indeed, some children and we set to working. We worked our way through the tasks, each person fitting into a job that they felt “comfortable” with. When at afternoon tea we assessed the situation we set our goal to get the roof framework completed. There was a great sense of teamwork as people cut, passed and nailed. About 5:15 p.m. we nailed the last nail home. Arms were sore from nailing. People were worn out by all the lifting, shifting and sawing. The foreman called us together and perched on the roof framing we had a brief time of thanksgiving prayer. Here we were, men and women, young and old, a wide variety of denominations, some no spiritual home, all sitting tired on the roof, feeling one with each other and God. I don’t know what the neighbours thought,…. a prayer meeting on top of a roof, late on a Saturday…. but it just seemed appropriate and gave expression to the unity we had already experienced.
Another Habitat House in July 2008. We had set the time for the dedication service at 3 p.m. I arrived at around 8 a.m. and stuck a sheet of paper with around 30 jobs to be completed by the opening. Volunteers turned up, again a great variety of men and women. During the day one by one, each job was ticked off. Ten minutes before the dedication ceremony I changed out of muddy clothing, a friend passed me a cup of tea, I collected my thoughts, and we began the ceremony. Again we were tired, but we had a deep sense of being together in preparing the house for the family to move in the next day.
We run a drop-in at the church. The main leaders are two couples. It is on Friday evenings from 6:30 – 9:30. There are all types at the drop in and we would average 40 through each Friday. Many have drink, drugs or mental health issues. Sometimes they clash with one another and we have evolved ways of keeping the peace. I will grab someone I know who can cause a problem and keep them busy playing table tennis… or Curly will move in and play pool with someone or engage them in conversation. We tag team with people, and doing dishes and playing pool. During the night as various situations emerge, Curly and I will look at each other and without language know what is needed, and support one another in the tasks. Again it is just a sense of being on the same wave length, sensing the same purpose and knowing we are together in caring for others.
A retired fireman was dying in the hospice. His friends at the fire station kept visiting along with me and between us we talked to his wife and family about the inevitable and the funeral. He eventually died and I began funeral preparations. We were to hold it with the family at the central fire station. There was to be a vintage fire truck as a hearse, we would borrow chairs, organ and lectern from the church. We would set up a sound system. We needed sprigs to be cut for the ceremony, a reader for the reading, a fireman representative to speak etc. etc. For two days of preparation I felt the sense of support of the firemen. One fireman took the day off and told me he was available to organize what ever needed to be done. The family and friends gathered, all sitting in the seats we had laid out. Behind there was a wall of fire men in their “undress” uniforms. As I stood at the front of the assembled congregation to begin the service, I could sense all these fire guys looking at me… but not only looking at me, but WITH me as together we remembered their mate.
I got word of a lady in our church who I loved like my own mother, had died suddenly after bypass surgery. My wife and I rushed to the intensive care unit to be with her husband and family. In time we were allowed to gather around her bed. I had known the family most of my life and they asked if I would lead in prayer. We held hands and I choked out a few words of love, thanksgiving and grief. At the end of the prayer we just stood there holding hands sobbing quietly, but unified in our grief.
A friend and I had set our goal of doing a half-marathon. For me it was losing the fat and getting back into doing one, for her a new experience. For months in all sorts of weather we had encouraged one another, compared training schedules, trained and kept each other going. Then we ran the distance and together crossed the line. We lay on the grass exhausted, but feeling so good. Runners will tell you that you often feel connected with "life", other runners and your own body in such a race. All the months of training had been worth it, we had overcome and together we had achieved. Our families were there to celebrate with us but somehow they were almost an interruption. It was OUR triumph, we had done it together.
I could tell you of heaps more similar stories. Such times of unity and connectedness are sacred, deep and among the most precious experiences of life. They cut through all the crap of life and say, “this is the essence of life”. I am fortunate to keep experiencing them. (Photo: setting up the roof trusses that Saturday)
No comments:
Post a Comment