The Places our Stories Meet

“Embrace uncertainty, some of the best chapters in our lives won’t have a title until much later.” Bob Goff

A year earlier I scribbled these words in my journal. Almost 12 months later I was sitting at a table on the California coast, listening to the ocean surf back drop the conversation of a table full of women. Some new acquaintances of the last few days, some years of friendship behind us.

I was heading into a 6 week internship with Joni and Friends, filled with new people and places,  responsibilities, hot days, and lots of unknowns. Photos not capturing the swirling of my thoughts, trying to take in all of the emotions and preparations needed.

But now that chapter is written, complete. I’ve been sitting in front of my screen, trying to wrap words around so many experiences.

The people, the places, the joy, the challenge…the celebration of STORIES.

Celebration is something we often save for the ‘Big’ milestone things…not the oh-so-many-in-between moments of the mundane. In March these thoughts were on my mind as I reflected on the memory of a winter hike with a dear friend”…celebrating winter and almost-spring, small steps and mountain tops, long stretches and  slow, steady growth, and the places our stories meet…Sometimes going forward means taking a moment to look back on where we’ve been. And stopping in the middle, just to breathe it in.”

So again I need to look back…to stop in the middle of the busy and the hustle that December becomes…to breathe in the beauty of this chapter, the places where our stories intersected during these 6 weeks of summer.

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We sat on the couch, watching the film JONI, some of the team learning for the first time the unfolding of the story of a 17 year old girl and the dive that changed her life.

The story that initially brought each of us from different corners of the world to spend this 6 weeks together.

A couple of days later I stood elbow to elbow with Johnny, Grandpa to a 7 year old little girl who writes letters to his address in Kingman prison. Johnny was taking apart a wheelchair, here at the Wheelchair Restoration center, carefully washing the wheels, and replacing the ball bearings.

‘You take this one here, and put that in the middle, then slide this in here” he said with a thick Mexican accent, and watched as my fingers found their way around the metal pieces.

‘You’re a good teacher” I said. “Not everyone can explain something even if they can fix it themselves.” “Well I always liked teaching others how to do a job…when I was in concrete work I would teach 4 other guys how to do what I did…some people thought it was a threat to their job but I thought hey, if 5 people know how to do it that’s even better!”

We worked a bit longer in the quiet of clanking and tools, and I wondered what it would be like if we all felt less threatened by others taking our place and willingly shared our gifts with the world. I needed those words to sink into my own heart.

He told me more about his family, his children, his granddaughter, and how she was born after he went to prison. How this is the only way she knows him…and how his family used to visit all the time but it was too hard every time after they left. So he told them to only come 4 times a year…he shared that on a recent visit they had brought him Mexican food, rice and beans.  That reminded him of home. He told me about his family’s cabin up in the mountains…the place he dreamed of going to be with family when he got out in 2 years.

“Okay God…whatever surprises you have ahead…” JONI’S words came through the screen, whispered in the dark of her room, her neck broken, her body constricted, confined to her bed.

Could she have had any idea? That I would be standing next to Johnny watching him carefully disconnect, clean, correct, shine, and restore a wheel chair that would bring someone else mobility – bring them freedom. That I would be able to tell him “I’ve seen those chairs delivered in Peru…they really make a difference.” That I would see purpose for these lives being built one wheel, one chair at a time in that prison room, even as it would build hope in a life a country away.

Johnny, only one of the many whose story has intersected over the past 50  years with the story unfolding on the screen in front of us.

Only one of the many whose story has impacted our 2019 Cause 4 Life team during these hot Arizona and humid Dominican days…stories that have added to the richness of our own.

And these words from only one of the many Cause 4 Life interns whose story has been altered by those whispered words in the dark, ‘...whatever surprises you have ahead‘…

“…these women taught me that you must not only let God hold you, but you have to allow others to hold you as well. That’s the beauty of community. Each of these women have INCREDIBLE stories. Incredible reasons as to why they have a passion for serving those with disabilities. From sibling, to personal diagnosis, to friends, we all have been impacted by those with disabilities and the light/love they bring to our lives. It’s bye for now, but these women will forever be my sisters. God is the writer of our stories, and the more we share our stories, the more evident His Authorship on our lives is. Grateful for my Arizona and Dominican family.

Moriah Ramsey

What might happen if we too leaned into the dark this December…with whatever it is we feel confined and restricted by and whispered those 2 words ” Okay God”?

Might there be a ‘best chapter’ waiting as we lean into this one? Or might ‘best’ be woven right into this current chapter…like the lights woven into the dark of branches, breaking darkness with their holiday glow?

Embrace uncertainty.

With our hope tethered to the Light of the World. Who arrived in unexpected light over a dark field of sheep, bringing news of a new chapter of Great Joy to come.