We've had a long, cold, stormy winter in the Pacific Northwest this year. We've all been grumbling about it. We're tired of the cold. We miss the sun. We don't like being stuck inside. But winter also brings snowstorms. And marvelous things can happen in a snowstorm.
As we prepared for a recent winter Celebration, I was not at all surprised to hear from a guest's mother that she would not be able to attend after all. Disappointing because she had offered to play piano for us when a musician cancelled, but not a surprise. First, this is a young lady who lives with autism, which in itself often presents challenges. Add to that the fact that a snowstorm was dumping on us, and two metro buses were stranded on the hill next to the church where we were scheduled to gather. Traffic was mayhem with people slipping and sliding and colliding everywhere. Thick snow whirled in the air, blinding people who were trying to get from place to place. As we prepared for the gathering, we really weren't sure
anyone would come.
But guess what...she came anyway. Yep, that's right. She wanted to play piano for us so badly that she convinced her mother to drive from a distant city through a snowstorm to the church. What's more, I found out later that the heater in their car wasn't even working. So there was ample reason not to expect her arrival, yet arrive she did, and promptly filled the Fellowship Hall with a joyful sampling of classical music as folks trickled in and sat down to enjoy a hot meal. We tried to get her to stop playing long enough to eat, but she said she could eat later. Instead she provided accompaniment so those of us who fought our way through the storm could all sing together. She performed with energy, passion and enthusiasm, a big smile lighting up her face, the blizzard outside and all other troubles forgotten. Amazing.
But that's the way it is with our events. People really, truly do need and appreciate those times of fellowship. So much so that we often see them go to great lengths to get there. I can easily think of many instances of folks going to what many of us would consider superhuman lengths to get to our gatherings.
As another example, one of our regular program attendees has to have a caregiver take her to a Park and Ride lot on the boundary with King county to get to our Sunday events since accessible transportation is not provided where she lives on Sundays. She's an elderly lady whose body will often not do what she wants due to physical disability. What's more she requires the assistance of a wheelchair to get around. What's more she is blind. Yet despite her vulnerability, she strikes out across two counties on her own, changing transport in a cold, lonely, noisy concrete Park and Ride lot, traveling many miles strapped in a wheelchair, jolting down the roads in a van that's hardly plush, with people she does not know and cannot even see...to attend our gatherings. Amazing.
As a part of my work at Bridge, I often see people take risks most folks would shrink from, travel long distances, endure long waits patiently, bear discomfort and pain stoically - all so they can participate in community and spiritual life. Yes, I think it is safe to say this is important to them.
And if you doubt it, ask yourself: What would it take to bring YOU out in a snowstorm? How much would YOU endure? These folks inspire me. I feel that they give me so much more than I could ever give them in return. They have taught me to sing in a snowstorm.
"...so that I may come to you with joy, by God’s will, and in your company be refreshed."
- Romans 15:32
