May 1st

Tracking Our Steps

“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’”

What are my steps like in my home, in my church family, and with those I meet in the community?

Today, after a meaningful Sunday morning worship service, a group from our church follow our ritual of visiting one of our favourite restaurants. As we wait to be seated, I notice the quick steps of our friendly, busy waitress, a newcomer to Canada, whom we know from previous visits.
Again we are served a delicious meal. The food is well prepared, the wait is reasonably short, and as always the service is impressively warm. All the while we are engaged in healthy, sometimes vigorous discussion with one another.

The topic shifts to Mennonite Church Alberta’s Annual Assembly, which was held just a few weeks ago. The excitement of multicultural participation still lingers for many of us: the Korean keynote speaker, the diversity of music, the lively worshipful dancing, the ethnic food prepared and served largely by the Liberian folk. No longer are we in our Mennonite Church family only of European descent.

“Can I top up your water glasses?” As we are again being courteously served by our waitress, I detect a deep sadness in her eyes? It dawns upon me how on previous occasions she has hinted at the pride she feels for her home country. A gentle nudge enters my soul. I say:
“We are so sad about the wars that are going on in so many countries today.” She pauses her work and looks up. I mention to her the Assembly we had attended, and say, “We prayed for all these different countries, including yours.”

She nods and with her head slightly bowed she says, “That’s all we can do, is to pray.”

“Do you still have family over there?”  “Yes I do, my parents, and there are a lot of friends who are hiding somewhere in the bush. We Christians have to leave everything behind, and go and hide. I worry about them.” I listen to her lament. And I feel the tears welling in her eyes.
“But we just have to pray and pray,” she asserts. “Would you like some dessert?”
“No, that’s fine, just bring us the bill, when you have time.”

Deep thoughts linger in my heart as our conversation at the table moves into other areas of life. What a heavy load our fine waitress has to carry – much heavier than the load of stacked dishes she takes from our table. As we leave, I look back and see her stepping away from serving another customer at another table. Is that a more hopeful spirit emulating from her? Surprisingly, her steps appear to flow more lightly.

Maneuvering thoughtfully through the crowded parking lot to our car, remarkably, my footprints also seem to be lighter.