Do You Feel God's Presence?
It had been ten years since Bob
and I participated in our last 'formal' mission trip, and after listening to
those who have traveled to West Virginia during the previous two years, it was
clear that we were long overdue for taking a risk and redirecting our focus to
some spiritual development. Maybe it took so long because there wasn't the same
sense of urgency or destruction that Katrina brought to the forefront. Maybe we
were becoming accustomed to the disaster of the week. Maybe it was our own
personal bias about this region that kept us from acting sooner. We decided we
didn't want to let another year pass without venturing to this region that we
so often have driven through or around to get to somewhere else.
In our car on the way down, as the
ride and hours grew longer, we grew more honest with each other in our
discussions, especially the ones who were venturing down for the first time.
“Did anyone in the car feel the Spirit
of God?” Did anyone hear God speaking to them?”“Is it okay to not feel or see
God's presence yet?” People asked us if we felt it when we went to New Orleans,
and I couldn't say for sure how I felt heading down there for the first time,
but I will always remember the impact of seeing what I thought were built-in
swimming pools by the thousands, as far as the eye could see as our plane
approached the Louis Armstrong Airport. It was a few seconds more as the plane
descended that I realized the swimming
pools were actually blue tarps covering roofs that had not yet been repaired or
replaced a year later. As my plane left New Orleans at the end of our trip, I
remember sobbing at the idea of leaving so much devastation behind me, feeling
that even though we accomplished so much in a week's time, at that moment, it seemed minuscule. I
recalled the people that we were so fortunate to meet through visits to homes,
churches, and work. It was at that moment that I felt the Spirit of God in me
and knew that my work here was not done. When we all got home and debriefed,
the others shared the same feelings and experience as our plane passed over
Lake Pontchartrain.
Leading
up to this trip, I wondered if I would feel the powerful presence of the Lord's
spirit like that again. I wondered if I could be moved by the people and their
stories like I was ten years ago.
And that brings me back to this past week.
It was difficult to feel the same
sense of urgency taking two days to arrive at our destination, having so much
fun, and laughing so much with companions during the side trips that were so
lovingly planned by our travel leader-Allyson, and the efforts made by Pastor
John to bond the group together through mixing up travel companions each time
we stopped for a stretch break or “Allyson-inspired adventure.”When we finally
arrived to the Appalachian South Folk Center, I still wasn't feeling it. The
land and surroundings were breathtaking. The surrounding communities appeared
intact as we passed through. What was the urgency? What was the problem? What
was I missing? Early the first morning, I walked to the top of the hill to
catch the sunrise. I talked to Pastor Gary, the minister from Good Shepherd in
New Orleans, who is now in heaven making the angels laugh at the same horrible
jokes that endeared him to us and had us coming back to Good Shepherd for many
visits. I asked for his guidance, for a sign that I could have an impact, and
that this trip could have an impact on me and my spirituality. Then the work
began.
Bob and I have a knack
for being a bit 'ambitious', if not ridiculously over-confident in how much can
be accomplished if the heart and soul desires it. The first moment we walked
into that church and met Geneva, who came up to each individual member of our
group and introduced herself, “What it your name? Nice to meet you. Geneva
Pugh, “ I knew what would happen next. We were there to paint, but Bob surveyed
the building, and quickly announced we would be refurbishing the two bathrooms
and kitchen in addition to the painting. We began to rip things out before having
a real plan, and before running it by the entire group. I could see a bit of
panic on the face of Greg, the ASFC foreman who was overseeing the project. I
got nervous, but I also know that when the Spirt it does speak to
Bob, a little faith is a good companion to the admiration of his good
intentions. I was worried that Greg wanted to escort us back to the Virginia
border with a resounding, “No thanks!”I also wanted to be sure that everyone
was on board, as this is a group project. I wasn't feeling the Spirit yet.
Pastor John's morning devotionals
set the groups focus for the day. The readings would remind me of the bigger
picture and overall purpose behind our mission, but I have to admit that once the
work started each day, it was challenging for me to keep the message in the
forefront of my mind. I didn't want to leave this place in worse condition than
we found it. I didn't want to leave a longer list of repairs for others to
carry out. At the evening devotionals, people were sharing signs that the
Spirit of God was present. Did I miss it? Why didn't I see that? I was there. I
should have been able to share that! The Spirit was still eluding me.
As the plans evolved and the week
wore on, Bob would venture out a little bit earlier each day so we could get
supplies on the way. He would do the
same at the end of each day. We both worried about the impact of a 3 hour round
trip to and from WyCo each day on our ability to get everything finished by
week's end. But there were perks, too.
The best part of each day was arriving to the church and seeing Geneva waiting
for us with the church already opened, she dressed in her painter whites (“I am
wearing white because of the heat,” she shared), and, after finding out on the
first day she liked the coffee at Dairy Queen, Bob would present her with her
morning coffee picked up on the way each morning We would listen to her share
her stories with us while we finished our coffee, and Bob would lay out the
plan for the day so she would know what would be happening, making sure she was
okay with the proposals, and getting her input on options or preferences. I think I began to feel the Spirit during
these early morning moments before the craziness of the work day began.
At some point at the end of our
first work day on Monday, as I worried we were moving too fast and taking too
many liberties, I was working behind the counter in the kitchen when the others
left the basement, and only Geneva remained. She looked upward, raised her arms
in the air, and began to dance in a circle. It was a “Praise God” moment, and I
caught it. When I stood, she just looked at me, and said, “I didn't know anyone
was still here.” She paused, smiled, and then began to dance again, “I am so
happy you all are here with us! I can not believe this is happening!” Where I
saw work and worry about getting it all done in time, she saw blessings. I
think I felt the Spirit.
We
did this every day, and each of those days I saw sixteen others working so hard,
each one working beyond or outside of their comfort zone. I felt a little
guilty, not that we took on more than this group could handle, but that they
were taking on more than they should have to handle. We were supposed to just
paint the sanctuary. There was no complaining. Everyone worked so hard each day
and all day. We were exhausted when we arrived back to camp at the end of each
day, but still had to prepare dinner and
participate in evening devotions. We had a chore schedule to make sure
everyone participated in the daily tasks, but everyone pitched in outside of
the schedule to help each other out. I think I felt the Spirit again.
On Tuesday, ninety-two year old
Ms. Margaret Pugh arriving at the church to meet us and check out our work. She
looked at Bob when he was introduced, and stated that he has 'dreamy eyes'.
“Are you his wife? Did you know he has dreamy eyes?”“I know Ms. Margaret; that
is what I fell for, too!” She announced she wanted to give him another hug. I
thought I felt the spirit, but kept a closer eye on Ms. Margaret.
Tuesday night we went to the Riff
Raff; everyone was so physically and mentally exhausted. We made an exit plan, deciding that maybe one
car would go back early for those too tired to stay. Alas, it was such an
inspirational and amazing night, watching and listening to these young people take the stage to sing and share
their own music with us, some for the very first time. No one wanted to leave.
I think I felt the Spirit again.
At the end of the long, hot day
of work, Geneva lead the way to a 'waterfall' not too far from the church.
Watching everyone walk through the waterfall and seeing them instantly
transformed from an exhausted shell to a rejuvenated being. The hugging, dancing,
and encouragement as each stepped
through
the water. I thought I felt the Spirit.
Wednesday night, Rick grilled
burgers and dogs for us and we ate outside, followed by a basketball game of
PIG, Most were exhausted and some selected to observe from the sidelines,
initially. After observing for the first round, everyone wanted in. We went in order of age, the ages ranging
from ten years to, well, a lot older than ten. Some were athletic. Most were not.
I remember laughing so hard I had to cross my legs so as not to pee. We played
it out until Evan Majoros won and we were surrounded by darkness. The night
ended with a beautiful bonfire built by Jacob and Phillip, with some help from
Greg. Lori came from the Riff Raff to
share her musical talents with the group. We learned about drumming that night.
Evan and Douglas solved the case of the missing shampoo. The stars were
abundant; my husband was at my side; we were surrounded by God's gifts. I
thought I felt the Spirit.
By
Wednesday night,Thursday morning, Bob was wearing down. He wasn't sleeping
well, and the days were getting hotter. Some repairs weren't always going as
smoothly as he had hoped. I could see it affecting him, and as a result
affecting me. We had one more day to get through. It was difficult as there
was so much left to do. Margaret came
back about midday on Thursday. When I took a water break and emerged from the
basement, I heard singing. I came around to the church entrance and stood at
the bottom of the steps. Connie pointed to the doors opening where I could see
the backs of Pastor John and Margaret sitting in the back pew and sharing a
hymnal, singing together. It was a beautiful moment and a memory I will
certainly carry with me for a long time. I also remember smiling each time I
looked out from downstairs and saw Ms. Margaret seated out back, and each time
speaking with a different member of our group. I think everyone wanted their
time with Ms. Margaret. Her reputation for storytelling and sharing her experiences
as a black woman in this part of the country during the better part of a
century had preceded her, and everyone wanted to listen to what she had to say.
She was definitely someone special. I
most definitely felt the Spirit through Ms. Margaret. The plumbing was also
completed not long after this, and once again, I felt the Spirit (and a lot of
relief).
Thursday evening
after my shower, I ran into Greg outside. He came up to me and hugged me, telling
me how he wasn't so sure about us at the start of the first day, but by the end
of the day, he was assigning us stuff to do, and he could lay back a bit, not
worrying about watching us every minute so we wouldn't mess up. He is used to
dealing with teens and was surprised by the number of adults in our group, and
even more surprised at their work ethic and willingness to do just about
anything asked of them. He began to talk about his experience with ASFC over
the past five years. He shared that at the beginning, it was just work, and
didn't think much about the spiritual aspects of it. After working with so many
different people from all over the country, his feelings and connections began
to develop into something more spiritual. He teared up as he said this, and
attributed his growing faith to “people
such yourselves and your group.” He said we could come back any time and he
would be honored to work with our group again. I felt the Spirit growing
within. The sunset seemed especially beautiful that night.
It was challenging doing this trip
as part of such a large group. It's also challenging being on this trip with a
spouse. My first mission experience to NOLA was smaller and we had more
independence in decision making and planning. I was sometimes more worried
about the group than I was about Bob's feelings. I don't think it was a lack of
confidence or not appreciating that he wanted to do this for Geneva and
Margaret, as well as the Church's community, I just didn't feel comfortable
pushing an agenda that wasn't a group decision. I also understood that there
was more to this trip than just repairing things. Unlike our trip to NOLA, we
had a spiritual leader with us this time, and, to me, the building of the
spirit equals the physical callings of
the mission. I forgot how we were both changed spiritually by the people
we met, by their deep their faith in
God, and their gratitude for those he sent to help them through the crisis
caused by Katrina. I was struggling to find balance. At times I found myself
struggling to hold onto the Spirit, even
when I knew it was present right in front of me.
It wasn't until we left early
ahead of the group and began our journey home that I finally had time to think
and process the impact of this trip. Initially, as we drove away, I thought I
might have missed my opportunity. I worried that I focused on the wrong thing,
getting lost in the details rather than
focusing on the big picture. I spent too
much energy on the physical tasks at the cost of spiritual growth. I was disappointed with myself those initial
hours as we made our way through the winding hairpin mountain roads that lead
us out of West Virginia. As we drove on and it was turning into mid-morning,
Bob would ask me to make calls so he could check in with various people back
home. Each time, I would put the call on speakerphone, and, not paying
attention initially, began to hear Bob's conversations with his friends,
customers, and family. He would go into detail about all the group
accomplished. He would talk about the
beautiful countryside, almost sounding as if he was defending it to the person
on the other end of the phone, to correct myths and misconceptions. He talked
about the side trips. He then began to talk about the people He talked about
Geneva and Margaret. He talked about Greg and Roger. He talked about how hard
the kids worked. He loved that Douglas enjoyed the jerky store as much has he
and John. He spoke with such pride and admiration about how amazing it was to
work with such a talented and hardworking group of individuals. He would share
how everyone stepped up and out of their comfort level to do things never tried
before, to care for and encourage each other as nerves got frayed, and bones
and muscles fatigued. He thought it was highly unusual to be able to count on
every individual in a group that large with such a large age range, but every
single person came through in one way or another. Everyone found a niche where
they could be productive or supportive. In between phone calls, he would talk
to me about Roger's story, conversations with Greg, and, of course, Ms.
Margaret and Geneva. We would also have long periods of quiet, when I knew we
both were thinking about the days past, and then blurt out another memory or
share a thought that hadn't yet been shared. We both had so many positive and
special moments involving each and every person in our group and those we met
throughout the week. We recalled all the beautiful scenery, the history we
learned, and talked about how we can do more. We wondered who would finish
painting the church's exterior. When we started talking about when we could
return....... I am definitely feeling the Spirit.
I know I need to work on how I
approach these mission trips. I know I missed some great spiritual opportunities
this week, or more accurately, maybe I trampled over them in my effort to get
the job done. I need to slow down and enjoy the journey rather than focusing so
much on the finish line. I would like to
acknowledge those moments as they happen, rather than on the trip home. If I can master that during a week of mission
work, then may there is hope for me yet to work on my life's journey, as well.
It was such a pleasure and reward to joyfully serve with this amazing group of
people. Thank you for accepting me as I am, a work in progress. Bless each and
everyone one of you who were willing to take this journey of faith and service.
Respectfully, filled with the Spirit of God,
Cheryl Pespisa, "The Foreman"we y serve with this amazing group of people.
Cheryl Pespisa, "The Foreman"we y serve with this amazing group of people.
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