Never underestimate what God is doing in a single action. I’ll never forget how, on a short hike within the wilderness of loss, I could find myself on a construction site, lifting materials and tools, helping older men I did not know to build a second storey structure on a church.
As I recall it, as I went to walk right on the highway, there was the vision of a crane lifting frames, one elderly man welding, another giving the orders, and others holding steel in place. Part of me was incredibly curious, normally lost in my own world of grief at the time, but overtaken by what seemed to be a need before me. I approached with the intent of just finding out what was going on. I left there that day kind of a different man, having invested part of myself with these older men (Dad’s Army as they called themselves), just as much as they had invested part of themselves in me — without any of us really knowing it at the time.
Fast forward six months and I find myself on the leadership of this church, and, though I loved the Lord and service with passion, it was more as a function, I think, of the pastor (Hans) believing I needed good people around me. Of course, he was right. The best place for me was around older, wiser, caring people, and to be on a purpose-driven life implementation team. God knew, and I certainly had no idea, but by the nine month mark I had received an irrefutably conclusive call to serve God. As AA had become a central part of my life, recovering from a marriage failure and the loss of my family as I was, the church took over, just at the right time, and I was soon off to join the ranks of the seminarians — another community instrumental in my recovery.
It all started on that ‘nothing’ day in December 2003. Not that I knew it at the time, but there was so much going on, and so many foundation stones were being set way back then on an innocuous Saturday afternoon.
What struck me about these men, none of them under 60, and some of them in their 80s, was just how different they seemed to be. The leader, Ross, was a direct man, with purpose in his eyes, determined to do what he was not supposed to do, and that was to work at height. I recall insisting that I would do the climbing and the working from height and having to remind him a few times that I was there and could do this. There was another guy, George, with the strongest most joyous faith, so wiry and yet so strong. Dave, another English guy, was humorous and wise and had so many life stories. And there was Reg, too. Everyone was so cooperative, so embracing, and there for each other, and there for me, nonetheless.
On this one day I found myself not only of use to these men as they lifted these sizeable pieces of metal flooring into place, few safety control measures in place for the safety manager in me, but within these short hours I saw the genesis of new friendships develop. I came to be curious about this church through what they were building. Soon enough I was attending, finding Christ again — or perhaps for the first time — becoming a ministry volunteer and then ultimately a member. I really had no idea when I walked onto that building site, that nine months later I would be enrolling in a graduate course in divinity. I had no idea, in the same month that God baptised me in the Spirit, that the Lord of my life was moving, even though it seemed at the time that my life was so incredibly stagnant, even in some respects, over.
It was one small step for a man to go on a walk and to find his purpose. This incident has proven to me over and over again the power laden in a single moment to forge a destiny. We all know that tragedy strikes in a moment, and they always catch us by complete surprise, even as we live our lives as if they will never end.
The men on the church construction site that day were all instrumental in helping me rebuild my life from the ashes as we continued our Saturday heroics each week over the next year or two. Nowadays it’s more the children of those men who are my contemporaries — not that we’re close in any way. None of these people really know the impact that their fathers had on me, not so much as fathers, but as fellow pilgrims walking the way of Christ. There was a sternness in Ross, but also a softer vulnerable relational side. Others whose names I have forgotten were examples of joy and joviality the likes of which I had never seen on a construction site. And I got to see them warts and all.
The moral to this story is we never know what is happening in any present moment, and just how significant one moment can be. With little things, big things grow. It’s the nature of life, but we only get to see this as we look back years, and perhaps decades onward, as we look back amazed at how far we’ve come.
When life is going slowly, and change is not happening quick enough, we feel like nothing is actually happening, but we just need to be reminded that God is at work in all our lives all the time.
Image: the church building itself.
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