I told a fellow church-goer/retired minister/friend some weeks ago that I was interested in being a 'worker bee' for the Valley Walk To Emmaus retreat this past weekend. After he put my name in the pot, I discovered me volunteered as the Head of the Worship Team... which is not at all what I expected, much preferring to be a little ole' below-the-radar indian than a Chief. But since I had served in that area for both the men's and women's retreats in the fall, apparently the person who makes those decisions felt like I was experienced/well-trained enough to just throw me in and see if I could swim.
I'm here to tell about it, so I guess we managed to muddle through fairly well.
It was long weekend: those who were serving 'behind the scenes' to make the event run smoothly for the 'pilgrims' when they would arrive on Thursday evening, were to be on-site by 1:00 on Thursday afternoon. I did not get the job description/book/binder of instructions with all the particulars for my area until Thursday morning, so I felt pretty anxious and stressed going into the weekend. But I found out what I was responsible for, what supplies were needed, and began putting everything in place for the 'pilgrims' to arrive in the evening.
I had excellent assistance, ample support from other workers, Logistics coordinator, and my Faithful Friend (who actually volunteered herself, instead of me being the one twho usually ropes her into projects). So it all got done, without the pilgrims realizing how many people were doing the work to make their time there in the woods such a rewarding, enriching experience.
At the end of the weekend, when the pilgrims were sort of 'commisioned', in a sense of returning (Go Ye Therefore...) to the Real World - going back out into their community, heading home to families, back to business in a literal sense - they were presented with the opportunity to tell what the weekend meant to them in terms of growth and how they would apply that experience. It was very sweet, often wet and teary, to see full-grown, well-fed, big, hairy men become moved, mould-able, transformed by what they had experienced.
When we were on the way back to Columbus late Sunday afternoon, nearly brain-dead from insufficent sleep and running on chocolate (my preferred form of caffiene) for three days: we talked about the questions the men responded to. 'What this weekend means to me' would have to be the blessing that I received when I had opportunity to be a witness to/serving during such a life-changing event. Seeing those men whose hearts were touched and lives were changed, knowing they will go back into families and the marketplace and what they will take with them.
Very gratifying knowing I had a part in that.
Over the weekend, when the servants were given an opportunity to secretly, anonymously walk around the outside walls of the chapel as the men were lead in worship, and saturate those men with prayer. Mine was for them to experience something that they would take home and live out with their families. For their hearts to be filled with the desire to raise up a generation of leaders, teach their children what they will need to grow into adults with integrity and character they will need to lead a nation, change our society and turn us around.
If you would like to feel like your heart,soul, spirit has been in for a 'tune-up' and renewed, you should talk to me about going on the Walk to Emmaus.
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