Windsock Time

For a few years, I was able to pray regularly with a group of nuns who lived in North Minneapolis, and who served the needs of this inner city neighborhood. One of their rituals was called "Windsock Time." When the nuns mounted a colorful windsock on their porch, it told the children in the neighborhood that it was Windsock Time. This time included games, arts and crafts, story reading and a snack. One time, while we were playing a game in the front yard of the monastery, six police cars, with sirens blasting, came speeding into the neighborhood. We all stopped our play briefly to observe, but went right back to playing – it was just another drug bust in the inner city...

Both of these groups, the nuns and the police – were fighting a war. The police used guns, force and the law for their weapons. The nuns used the Word of God and love. The police were taught to recognize a situation and react accordingly. The nuns were taught that each person is a unique child of God – made in His image.

As Christians, we are all fighting a war that takes place between our spirit man and our flesh man. As a child, we were no different than these inner city children – we needed someone in our lives who was older, wiser and loving to bring God's Word and His salvation into our lives. Like the nuns, these people in our lives took their precious time to invest in us – to get to know us, love us and teach us. When they saw a void in us, they would direct us to the right source to fill it with truth. When they saw something warped, they help straighten it. When they saw brokenness, they would help nurse us back to health – whether it be physically, emotionally or spiritually.

Reflecting on the character traits that these individuals had – first and foremost, their influence was birthed out of a love and concern for me. They never showed a dominating spirit. Their wisdom and genuine love for life raised me to a new level of interest and excitement. They elevated me to see the whole picture, rather than just a piece and they did it without making me feel inadequate. Their gentle wisdom invited a generous response from me – a response that originated deep in my spirit resulting in a lasting change. The life they modeled gave me a Godly example that helped me re-prioritize the issues of life into what was truly important and what was not. In my mind, I put them on a pedestal, which stimulated me into being a better person like they were. They were the true heroes in my life.

Rarely, did I acknowledge or even thank these people for the affect they had on me. Some of these people are no longer in my life and I may never be able to thank them, at least on this side of heaven. However, the best gift of appreciation that I can give them is to do for someone else, what they did for me. After all, it was because of their love and dedication that I am able to see the void in someone else's life and help fill it. It was because of them, I can see something warped and help straighten it. It was because of them, that I can see something broken and help nurse them back to life – a more beautiful and full life.

Like the sun
In the early morning hour,
May my life warm others
Gently opening their flower.

May I stand on the shoulders
Of those who helped me;
Who weeded my garden
And quench a thirst they did see.

 

May the drops of sunshine
In my life, they shared;
Bring light to others
Through this vessel, You prepared.

May my love for You
Which they helped birth;
And the new life You gave me
Give me a heart to serve.

Dean Robinson 2008
Contact the author at Dean.Robinson@hdrinc.com