won't you let me be your servant...

It has been a while again, and by a while, I mean too long. For that I apologize. Last night I sat in on this week's DOOR group's reflection time, a talk about homelessness, but more than that, a talk about the unwelcomed in our society. Ana & I walked in just in time to hear the end of some pretty standard praise & worship song (I can't remember what it was), but the last song they sang before launching into discussions and reflections struck me. It was one I knew called "Servant Song". The one part says,

We are pilgrims on a journey; we are travelers on the road;
we are here to help each other walk the mile and bear the load.

...
I will weep when you are weeping; when you laugh, I’ll laugh with you.
I will share your joy and sorrow ‘til we’ve seen this journey through.
...

Pray that I may have the grace to let you be my servant, too.

It struck me because I see my daily encounters in this song. However, I notice that my encounters with my clients, during consultations, and in the world around me that I do not intentionally weep with the women who tell me of the horrible things they have overcome or laugh with the recently married couple. For me, it is a reaction and a realization that those are truly the meaningful moments in life. To me, it's comforting that human beings are inherently social & need to share with each other. So isn't that what this entire experience is really about? Not how many applications I get filed, or translations I get done, or even how many people remember my name a week after they saw me for a consultation. It's the brief moment that I laughed with someone, or an elderly client took a few minutes to share a story about their life & wisdom with me.

When the song ended, Danielle posed a question. The group sitting in front of her consisted of middle- and high-schoolers who were visiting & volunteering in San Antonio for the week and one of DOOR's week-long groups. She asked, "Where did you see God today?" Ana & I looked at each other & laughed. She said, "I don't think I saw God today". I replied, "I was thinking the same thing". We talked for a few minutes about the fact that, in contrast to the group sitting in front of us, we don't always see God. Just like the rest of our society, we get wrapped up in the day to day tasks of our jobs, the stress, & the mundane details of life. Sometimes, this life isn't the rosy, all people are inherently good, "everything will end well" picture it's painted to be & sometimes, we just don't stop to look. I have seen a lot of pain this year, a lot of hunger, & a lot of need. Some days, as I head home, I really question where God is. And lately, I have hit a wall as my schedule gets busier & I start transitioning back to "the real world". I push myself to get as much work done as I can because my days here are numbered. I rush home & stand in my room wondering how all of that stuff is going to get back to Dallas & then on to Tulsa. So last night, I just sat, thinking about where I had seen good. And it was calming to just think...

At one point, Jim, who was speaking about homelessness & the Catholic Worker House, read the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi & I was jolted out of my meditation. When I was younger, we sang that prayer in youth choir, but somehow I really understood it in the context of the night, of my year, and of the importance of walking together & sharing the load. So as I walked home last night, the sense of calm stayed with me. I don't see God every day, whether that is my own fault as a child raised in middle-class American society or simply the fact that some days you just can't. However, taking time out from the busy, fast-paced world to look, laugh, cry and share another's load makes life a little easier. So it is my hope that we can all take a few minutes during the week to welcome the stranger, share a moment, make an effort to ease their load & maybe, just maybe, we will see God...

en paz,

jenna

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life."

Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi