Stop, look, and listen

     I dislike letting so much time go between posts, but sometimes life simply gets in the way. I'm sure everyone has had similar circumstances, wondering if it's possible to squeeze a few more hours into each day. And yet, there are times you just have to stop, look, and listen.

     Yesterday was one of those days.

     The first two weeks of the Winter college semester have been rather hectic. This has been made worse by the variety of winter weather we've been having; everything from snow to sleet, freezing rain to whiteout fog. Then include normal responsibilities with family, friends, and congregation, which still need their share of attention.

     Last night was rehearsal for the worship team. Our keyboardist will be absent this week, and I usually step up with the guitar when needed: though I'd prefer to stick with my primary instrument, drums, if everything falls into place.

     Missing most of our musicians, and down to one female voice, the need for a little extra work on a few tunes was in order. But we took it in stride, accomplished the tasks, and finished with our customary prayer.
However, just as we finished, a young man entered the auditorium, which is a bit out of the ordinary. It's a small church, with nothing planned for Friday nights except worship practice.

     For the sake of privacy I will call him "Bill." Bill has not been a member of the church very long. Just a few months back he rededicated his life to Christ, then followed the profession of faith with baptism a week later.

     Bill is partially disabled, and attempts to make do with a fixed income. He lives with a roommate, who shares the financial burden. Unfortunately, the continuing economic crisis continues to devastate our small Central Oregon community. And Bill's roommate has just joined the ranks of the unemployed.

     This is not a casual or quick fix problem in an area plagued with a much higher rate of unemployment than the national average. An area that sees thousands of people going after a few dozen jobs.

     Bill's partial disability payments are not enough to make the monthly bills. And just because he's partially disabled does not mean he doesn't have the normal amount of male pride. He eagerly wants to work, even if it's only part-time. Yet there isn't anything available.

     Bill is at his wits end. He humbled himself before the few remaining worship team members. That's not an easy thing for any man to do in this society: a society that raises the bar high on what it allegedly means to be a "real" man.

     With regard to the worship team members, I realized, after everything was over, we spent more time with Bill than we did for the entire rehearsal. We each forgot our own problems for awhile, and dismissed the usual urgency of our daily grinds, while attempting to comfort, help, and find solutions for one of our brothers in Christ.

     I am not bringing this up for any verbal pat on the back, but as a reminder to us all. Even though most of us have our share of difficulties, it doesn't take any of us too long to find someone worse off than we are. If we simply stop, look, and listen we can find many opportunities to help. And even though helping the victims in Haiti is a positive thing, we can find just as many starving and/or shattered lives right here. Maybe right next door.