Dear Inner Circle,
Sitting at the front of our building in the warmth of the spring sunshine the other day, was a gathering of people warming themselves after a cold night. I decided to sit for a short time with this early morning crowd. Within minutes I noticed that I’d sat next to a woman whose quiet restraint broke into deep sobbing. I was not about to attempt to be an expert in a situation such as this. I made a feeble invitation to talk and she was grateful and ready, as though she had been waiting for someone to reach out. She explained that her sister had just died and this was the day of her funeral. She had loved her sister dearly, and the swirl of unresolved love and hurt that had boiled over in that moment had been felt because there was no way that she could attend the funeral. As is often the way at Wayside, while this woman was sharing her heart, the woman on the other side of me also began sharing the kind of hurt that demands total attention. Try giving your undivided attention to two different people suffering from two unrelated traumas, in equal measure, at the same time. The second woman explained she had just lost her baby mid-pregnancy. Her baby was to be a girl and the woman had decided to name the child after her own mother who had just died. The pain was cutting her in two. I suggested to both women that we move into the chapel where we could at least talk away from the crowd, and where there might be some chance that each woman would hear the other. In front of our little altar with the “screaming Jesus” in our chapel, both women poured their hearts out, each giving time for the other to speak, until we all sat in exhausted silence. Without any wisdom or explanations, I lit a candle for the baby, for the mother and for the sister. We sat, we held hands and in due course we each walked out into the morning sun again. Nothing had been fixed, but we’d met, and they had both been heard.[vc_row columns_on_tablet=”keep” padding_top=”0″ padding_bottom=”0″][vc_column h_text_align=”left” h_text_align_mobile=”left” v_align=”v-align-middle” use_background=”” width=”1/1″][tm_image image_id=”1408″ link_image=”none” textarea_html_bkg_color=”#ffffff” caption_type=””][/tm_image][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row columns_on_tablet=”keep” padding_top=”50″ padding_bottom=”50″][vc_column h_text_align=”left” h_text_align_mobile=”left” v_align=”v-align-middle” use_background=”” width=”1/1″][tm_textblock textarea_html_bkg_color=”#ffffff”]Earlier today in the street, I was greeted warmly by a bloke who only weeks ago, was so consumed by bitterness and rage that even a cordial greeting from him would have produced in me a mild shock. I’d learned that this guy was once at the top of his profession, living on the harbour and surrounded by the things that most aspire to own. Yet at that time his appetite could not be satisfied, no matter how successful or how much “stuff” he surrounded himself with. His insatiable appetite eventually constructed a world with no boundaries, no limits, no values, and he inevitably fell hard into a personal and professional, “train wreck”. It seems that something good is now on the way. The love that this guy has found here may not have produced a miracle, but where he once abused us on every occasion, he now brings small gifts to our staff and has found the grace to say, “good morning”.
A younger woman told me on Sunday, “No one knew what was going on for me behind my mask, but I’ve found some people here who are really with me. Now I think I can do that for some other people. Can you give me a job?” Such small statements mean the world to us here. We know that life rarely turns around in moments of bright lights and orchestras, but rather in hundreds of small steps.
Thanks for being part of our inner circle
Jon
Jon Owen
Pastor & CEO
Wayside Chapel
