Summer is camp weather — and we’ve done a lot of it through
the last few months. We often contact people in the areas we’re travelling to
see if they have time for lunch or maybe a coffee at Timmie’s. Such was the
case in our recent trip.
It was a situation where we recently visited old friends of
the Mennonite tradition while travelling east. We had known one another for
many years; trust and friendship had developed between us. In the past we’d learned about our mutual
churches, congregations and groups within faith communities, and at times
discussed biblical passages and God’s expectations.
We looked at photo albums and listened to stories from the
past decade. As I coloured pictures, read stories and laughed with the
children, it was like having my own grandchildren around my knees. As the
father/husband asked God’s blessings on us individually before our meal, it was
truly drawing us all to the same table. Indeed, we shared common ground in the
oneness of God’s care and love, as well as our faithfulness and return of
gratitude.
On our second day, we were scanning the roadside for a rest
area, when we noticed a rural United Church building with a big empty parking
lot—big enough to turn this rig around. As no one was there, we couldn’t ask
permission, so I just put on the kettle and opened our lunch packages. Within
the half-hour several cars came rushing in. As it turned out, the women’s group
had arrived to practice a skit for an upcoming event. Later, as we talked
together, it reminded me of coffee hour after church. Again common ground in
location, witness and mission.
My last experience was one of urgency: later in the day, we
parked in a mall lot and as Doug checked the hitches and lights, a tall foreign
man came up behind him and asked for a screwdriver. “Straight” he said. At
first, my fear heightened. Doug gave it to him without looking back. We watched
him walk toward a huge loaded transport, to stand facing the passenger door. He
obviously attempted to open the lock. Doug ventured over to offer further
assistance and it happened the driver had requested permission from a grocery
store to unload, but wasn’t granted consent because he was not wearing safety
boots. His newly purchased boots were now in the cab, but so where his keys.
With a clothes hanger from the trailer and a little fancy
manoeuvring, Doug opened the huge truck cab door. Even with a language and culture barrier, a pressing
need, and established trust (albeit short-lived), the driver was able to
deliver his load before the deadline. The men had found common ground in the
differences: a need and a willingness to help.
We laughed as thirty minutes later, we saw the same truck
cab, minus its long trailer move in a circle around our RV, heading for the
exit—his way of saying thankful.
Blessings,
Donna
Check out donnamann.org
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