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Connie Peterson is an
assistant professor in
the department of
nursing at Concordia
College, Moorhead, Minn.
This is her story.
Last
fall, for the first
time, I joined a
Lutheran Woman Today
Bible study group at the
invitation of a friend.
I felt I needed to break
out of my routine, and I
wanted a more personal
connection with God. I
was a little intimidated
about looking ignorant
in front of the group,
however, and my fears
were confirmed when the
first lesson in the
September issue asked me
to think about times in
my life when I have
"acted boldly with
conviction." I struggled
to think of some and
realized that I could
not come up with a
single example.
God
clearly placed me in
this Bible study group
for a reason and I would
have to pay attention.
As I pondered this
challenge, I received an
e-mail from the campus
pastor’s office
requesting volunteers to
serve as faculty
advisors to 180 college
students on a hurricane
relief trip to New
Orleans. I said yes.
In the
weeks before we left, a
little voice in the back
of my head kept nagging
at me: What was I
thinking? I was busy
with fall semester. Act
boldly. I was also
writing my dissertation
and keeping the home
fires burning. Act
boldly. I knew only a
handful of the students;
the other two advisors
assigned to my bus were
strangers too. Act
boldly. It will be
filthy and exhausting
work, the little voice
shouted. How much
assistance could I
provide in four short
days? Maybe I should
just send money. Act
boldly. I went on the
trip.
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Our
busload of 45 students
and three advisors rode
for 28 hours straight to
Mandeville, just north
of New Orleans. On the
road, as the night wore
on, I prayed. Thank you,
God, for the energy of
youth. Thank you for new
friends and challenges.
Thank you for rest and
reflection. Thank you
for earplugs. |
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Connie Peterson
(back row, second
from the right) and
students from
Concordia College,
Moorhead, Minn.,
head to Louisiana to
help with recovery
after Hurricane
Katrina. |
A young
minister and a group of
Quaker relief workers
met us at the door of
the church where we
would stay. They
welcomed us with
hospitality and grace.
The pastor told of his
efforts to help his
congregation and
neighbors. Then he
described his struggle
to fix an elderly
neighbor’s roof, though
he was terrified of
heights. He told us how
he trembled but kept
climbing the ladder,
because "if he didn’t
help, who would?" He
told us how he lost his
balance and fell — landing
unharmed in soft, wet
mud. The story was
filled with meaning for
me: conquering your
fears, the opportunities
uncovered when you’re
off balance, and God’s
power to provide a soft
landing. When he was
done fixing the roof, he
told us, the woman
thanked him by saying,
"I prayed all morning
that Jesus would come
help me ... and he
came." There were no dry
eyes in the room. The
witness borne by one
person acting boldly
can’t be underestimated.
As I lay
down to sleep on the
floor of the church that
night, I thought of the
minister’s story. Thank
you, God, for the
opportunity to take you
up on your challenge to
act boldly. And thank
you, God, for my own
health and my family’s
safety as I take this
journey.
The next
day, 12 students and I
spent the day moving
fallen trees in a
widower’s yard and
cleaning and painting
the water-stained walls
in his house. Joe (not
his real name) had lost
everything but his old
kitchen table. Although
nothing remained except
the shell of his house
and piles of debris, he
greeted us with a
sparkle in his eye and
spent the day directing
traffic and telling
hurricane stories. He
had the students sign
their work as they
finished painting each
room. By noon, we felt
like members of Joe’s
family.
Joe
graciously insisted that
we sit at the table for
our noon meal, prepared
by the Red Cross for
disaster relief teams.
He called it a
celebration meal. Joe’s
brother provided the
blessing, roaring his
thanks to Jesus for the
student workers. We
stood in sweaty silence,
moved to tears by the
emotion and gratitude of
his prayer.
Later
that afternoon, a
student who had been
cleaning up debris in
the yard brought Joe a
warped, mildewed photo
album. When Joe opened
the album, he wept. It
was a sacred moment.
The bus
ride home was quiet as
we pondered how we could
return to our lives of
plenty knowing that
people in our own
country were struggling
to survive. I had
boarded the bus to New
Orleans with a sense of
expectation. I expected
to see devastation, and
I did. I expected to
work hard, and I did.
What I did not expect
was that I would receive
far more than I could
ever contribute. What I
did not expect was an
experience of the power
of the Holy Spirit
working in human lives.
"Act
boldly," the Bible study
said. I wish I had
listened sooner.
This
story first appeared in
the May 2006 issue of
Lutheran Woman Today
magazine. Used with
permission. |
