I went to do my chaplaincy at the fire station on Tuesday. As I walked across the yard I met a fire officer and greeted him. We caught up on how each other was as we walked toward the mess (military name for dinning room) for afternoon tea. They had shared an exercise with ambulance and police staff so the mess was packed with extra fire crews and visitors. I followed him into the kitchen and paused to greet other firefighters on the way. I went to the cupboard to get myself a cup. "There's no cups!" I complained. This impatient but friendly voice came from the other side of the kitchen... "I've got your cup... what do you want in it?" We made our chosen drink together and I stopped to catch up with another fire fighter. By the time I had got to the crowded mess room my fire officer friend had gone to quite some trouble to organise a seat for me. It was above and beyond the call of duty, it was an expression of friendship. He still gave me cheek and we had a bit of banter going backward and forward, but his gestures made me feel welcome in this crowded room.
I seldom wander the shopping streets of town. I make quick excursions to get what I want, and rush back to my office. But since I started my chaplaincy at Allied Press I have walked the four or five blocks there at least twice a week. I seldom make the journey without stopping to talk to someone. A person from one of my chaplaincies, a drop-in centre person, Darryl the street sweeper or a Habitat for Humanity acquaintance. It is then I realise that I do know a lot of people.
On Thursday I called at the Allied Press and in the process of my visiting went out to where the actual printing presses are. I wandered among these big machines looking for the men. I met them by the sink where they were washing their hands in preparation for a tea break. As we were right near the presses I asked a question about the printing process. This man went to no end of trouble to explain it to me showing me the various parts of the machines and ending up in the control room laying out a newspaper so that I could understand the process. I realised that he was taking his break time to do this for me, and I really appreciated it. Again it was a little expression of friendship that made me feel more welcome in this place.
I visited the TV station attached to Allied Press and introduced myself to a man there. He was working at a computer and told me he was a producer. He was doing graphics for a news show, the pictures that you see over the shoulder of the news reader. I had only met this man, but he went to some trouble to show me how he timed them into the show and how the fit together. Sometimes as chaplain you feel a bit shunned, or a bit like you are seen as an interruption around the place, but this small gesture made me feel accepted. As I talked to another man in a hall way I was quite taken by the number of people who went past and waved, or nodded or smiled in recognition of my presence. Small gestures but ones that help you feel accepted.
These are just some of the expressions of friendship I have encountered. Each gives you a feeling of being wanted. Today there was another. We had a couple visiting. He is a chaplain to a school. She is a minister who trained late in life, and during her training she did an internship with me. I only talked to her and her husband briefly after the service, but we have the sort of friendship where in two words we are on the same wavelength. We share the same sort of goals, suffer the same sort of frustrations and have a similar theological outlook. Just a few minutes of conversation and I felt less alone in ministry. She only said a few sentences to me, but immediately I knew that she knew where I was at. It was really refreshing. When someone on your wave length shares with you somehow the inner reserves are built up and life feels better.
Tonight... thank you Lord for friendship. For small friendly expressions that make life sweeter and for deeper connections that tie you to people in spite of distance and lack of contact.
Food and energy from our section. Recently as I have looked at my meal at home I have been able to see that every vegetable on the plate was grown in our garden. Carrots, parsnips, turnips, the greens and the potatoes. It is a good feel. We have been lighting the fire and we know that the wood that keeps our house warm came off our acre too. Perhaps I should drill for oil? Now that would be cool!
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